


Diamond in the Rough ...or Crack in the Chassis

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Series: Diamond in the Rough [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Disney brand casual racism, Disney's Aladdin AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:18:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Disney's Aladdin.</p><p>Cas is the street rat thief always one jump ahead, Dean is the beautiful prince being forced to find a wife.</p><p>There's an old lamp, a friendly djinni, an evil Grand Vizier, a treasure-obsessed monkey, and a magic carpet.</p><p>...And I'm sure you know exactly where this is headed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diamond in the Rough ...or Crack in the Chassis

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST OFF: Thank you to my dearest fiance, Dale, who betad this for me and kept me going throughout the whole process.
> 
> SECOND: Check out the fantastic and fun art from [mallaydraws](http://mallaydraws.tumblr.com/)! I'm so, so grateful to her for not only her amazing art, but also her ability to pick this up last minute and turn out something beautiful! Thank you so much for making my last DCBB a good one, despite all the odds.
> 
>  
> 
> LASTLY: I’ve been working on this concept for over two years. It took almost a year for me to finally be satisfied with my casting and concept. There was casting and re-casting, re-hashing plot points, researching more than I’ve probably ever researched (at least for fanfiction). I checked out every version of the Aladdin story from the library I could find. (Did you know it’s not one of the original Thousand and One Tales? It also takes place in China! And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.) I researched genies, djinn, etc. Real, religious, supernatural. Some questions, I couldn’t find the answers to. Some findings only brought more questions.
> 
> That being said, I did base this mainly on Disney’s Aladdin. I tried to weave in aspects of real djinn and the religion and more original/accurate versions of the story, but considering Disney, there are a lot of things that aren’t even a little accurate. Sometimes I give explanations for them. Sometimes I don’t. (I don’t know about you, but Winchester doesn’t seem like a particularly Arabic name, does it?)
> 
> This isn’t just Disney’s Aladdin retold with new characters. (Too many plot holes in the movie for me to do that.) I flesh out some points a whole lot more and introduce some new characters. (New to Aladdin, anyway.) It’s also not even close to an accurate story--historically, religiously, etc. Anything that isn’t accurate is not meant to offend, and I do thoroughly apologize if that happens. Really, I just hope that you enjoy imagining Dean in Jasmine’s little blue outfit. (And the red one too, while you’re at it.)

 

The royal family of the city of Agrabah was a small and happy family. Despite the pressures of ruling, the Sultan and the queen were close with their two children; two young boys whom the city absolutely adored. The boys were youthful and lively, exhausting even the most experienced of nursemaids, and as close as two brothers can be. They did have one companion who never tired of taking care of them; a companion who was fortunate enough to not only be a provider but a friend.

The djinni had been in the family for as long as anyone could remember; a faithful servant even after granting each family member the allotted three wishes. As it was, the djinni still owed one of the royal family one last wish, but the oldest brother had decided to save it for something particularly special. Though, what that was, he didn’t quite yet know.

The boys were ages nine and five, and life was still blissful and easy, when one day the djinni approached the oldest boy with a question. It had taken him some time to work up the courage to do so, as his request was so unheard of and against the djinni’s code of conduct. In fact, even simply making a request was practically unheard of. And this djinni had never before been so bold. Yet circumstances were such that he had no choice.

The oldest boy, Dean, had recently been allowed to take the family’s magic carpet, a sleek black thing with subtle silver embroidery, for rides on his own. He was still confined to the palace and had to be in eyesight of an adult at all times, but the simple thrill of being able to command the carpet on his own was enough for Dean. The djinni watched the boy soar around the courtyard fondly and let the nursemaid go inside to get some much needed rest. He glanced around for the younger boy, Sam, but concluded he must be inside for his daily nap, and so the djinni settled down to wait for Dean to return to solid ground.

Eventually he did so, eyes wide and bright, jumping off the carpet a few feet above the ground and rolling as he hit the stone. He was back on his feet immediately, eyes on the djinni, cheeks flushed with exhilaration. Above him the carpet made a couple of loops in the air before gliding back down to Dean’s side. The djinni approached, slipping from his adult form to his child form, matching Dean’s grin.

“Did you see me?” the boy cried, his excitement bursting out in stilted jumps and flailing limbs. “Did you see me?”

The djinni chuckles. “You’re really getting the hang of it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah I am! I’m awesome! Won’t be long before Mom lets me fly the Impala outside the palace,” Dean says, using the name the family used for the beloved carpet, “and then you can show me all those awesome places you talk about all over the world!”

The djinni’s smile falters. “Dean... I... I need to ask you something,” he says slowly. Dean doesn’t notice the change of tone right away, still caught up in his euphoria.

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I... I need to go away. For a while. I’m not sure how long. If you’ll let me,” he adds quickly. Dean’s finally caught on, freezing and staring at his friend with a hurt expression.

“I would just go, if I could, but I still owe you a wish. I cannot leave without your permission.”

“Why?” Dean asks, voice small. “Why do you need to go?”

“You’re in danger.”

“So?”

The djinni sighs. Somehow he knew that would be the boy’s response. “ _I’m_ in danger. As is Sammy, as are your parents, as is the entire city. If I could explain more, I would, and if you wish it of me, I will, but....”

“I’m saving that wish, Benny, you know that,” Dean says quietly. The djinni tries to ignore the pang that shoots through him at the nickname the royal family had given him years and years ago. So long ago he can’t even remember exactly how it happened. Not all of the family used it, but Dean... Dean practically refused to call him anything else.

“I know. And I’m sorry. And if you don’t allow it, I will stay. I must obey. But I’m asking you... please.”

Dean stares at him, eyes watery and bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. “Will you come back?”

“As soon as I can, I promise I will come back. You still have one more wish, remember?”

“Yeah, okay, but if I didn’t, would you come back?”

The djinni can feel his heart breaking. “Of course.”

“Okay. Okay,” Dean repeats, rubbing furiously at his nose. “As long as you promise you’ll come back, you can go.”

Relief washes through the djinni like a tidal wave, and he has to close his eyes momentarily in order not to be overwhelmed. “Thank you.”

The djinni turns away, ready to shift forms to his favored form of flight, the vampire bat, when Dean stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“Benny, wait.”

The djinni turns, dread making him cold, afraid Dean changed his mind. But Dean only stares at him for a few quiet moments. The djinni finds he’s immensely grateful that he chose to have this conversation in his child form. Instead of being at a position of authority over the boy, he’s instead at his same level, equal and a friend. The djinni notes a moment of hesitation in Dean before the boy bounces forward and kisses him soundly on the lips. The boy pulls back quickly, cheeks already burning a deep pink, but the djinni gives him a fond smile.

“I will miss you, Dean. And I will be back.”

The next day the royal family realizes the magic carpet has mysteriously disappeared. A week later the queen is found dead in her chambers.

_Oh I come from a land_

_From a faraway place_

_Where the caravan camels roam_

Our story begins on a dark night where a dark figure waits with a dark purpose. A shock of red hair and red markings on the cheeks of the black parrot on the figure’s shoulder are the only spots of color as they wait patiently far away from the city of Agrabah, deep in the desert. The horse the figure sits on gives a small whinny, and the figure brushes his mane soothingly before resuming their almost perfectly still vigil.

Eventually a thin man rides up to their side, sliding off his horse to bow low before the dark figure.

“You’re late,” a deep female voice intones, almost sounding bored.

“A thousand apologies,” the man replies, nose to the sand.

“You have it then?”

At this the man looks up, smiling slyly. “I had to slit a few throats to get it, but...” He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a gold trinket, presenting it proudly. The woman reaches out to take it, but the man snatches it back quickly.

“The treasure first,” he demands. The woman rolls her eyes as the parrot swoops down to snatch the trinket from the thin man’s fingers. He lets out a yelp of indignation, lashing out in an attempt to grab the trinket back from the parrot who’s already dropped it in the woman’s outstretched hand, settling back down on her shoulder.

“Patience, my friend,” she assures the man, focused on examining the trinket. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

The man frowns at the choice of words but stays silent. After finishing her examination of the gold, the woman reaches into her own cloak and pulls out an identical piece, the second half to a whole. She holds the two gold pieces together and, after a moment, they start to glow and shiver. Suddenly the completed gold trinket shoots out of the woman’s hands and flies away, farther out into the desert. A single shouted command and her horse races after it, leaving the thin man to scramble back onto his horse and follow before losing her completely.

The gold medallion speeds away before finally breaking apart into two again, plummeting into a dune. The woman pulls on her horse’s reins sharply, skidding to a halt. The broken medallion shudders and glows even brighter, a blinding white light, and the sand surrounding starts to shift and grow. The thin man catches up just in time to see a large lion head form in the sand, towering over them, the pieces of the medallion glowing brightly in place of its eyes.

“At last,” the woman murmurs reverently. “The cave of wonders.”

“Awk! Cave of wonders!” her parrot agrees.

The man slides off his horse again, staring up at the head in a mix of awe and fear. “By Allah...”

The woman turns back to him, eyeing him dubiously, before speaking. “Now remember. The rest of the treasure is yours, but first you must bring me the lamp.”

The man nods jerkily, stepping up quickly to the wide open mouth of the lion.

“Awk, the lamp! Awk, the lamp!” the parrot calls after him. “Where’d you dig this bozo up?” he asks, voice suddenly quite different, frowning at the woman. She ignores him astutely.

Just as the squat man reaches the mouth of the cave, a sudden gust of air from inside blows him back, and the mouth begins to move.

“Who disturbs my slumber?”

“It is I, Ajay,” the man stammers after recovering, brushing himself off and bowing. “A humble thief.”

“Know this,” the cave rumbles. “Only one man may enter here. One whose worth lies far within. A diamond in the rough.”

Ajay looks over his shoulder back to where the woman waits. She glares, gesturing towards the cave.

“What are you waiting for?”

Ajay hesitates and takes a tentative step forward, one foot past the sharp teeth lining the entrance. There’s a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation, until Ajay lets out a sigh of relief and casually continues forward.

A great roar fills the night and the mouth of the cave snaps shut with the poor thin man trapped inside, the sand collapsing back into the original shape of the dune. The two gold pieces slide down the dune, dull and still.

“Seek thee out, the diamond in the rough….”

The parrot on the woman’s shoulder flies over to pick them up, irritated. “I can’t believe it. We’re never going to get our hands on that stupid lamp. Just forget it. Look at this!” he shrieks, dropping the gold back in her hands. “I’m so pissed I’m molting! _Molting_!”

“Patience, Crowley,” the woman says calmly, tucking the pieces of the medallion back in her cloak. “Ajay was obviously less than worthy.”

“Oh, that’s a big surprise,” Crowley drawls, settling back on her shoulder. “That’s incredible. What are we going to do? We got a big problem here--”

The woman snaps the parrot’s beak shut with her fingers. “Yes. We do. Only one may enter. And I must find this one, this... diamond in the rough.”

“Dad’s gonna kill you.”

“Did you see how fast she was going? Dad won’t find out.” Dean gives his little brother a glare. “Will he?”

Sam shakes his head wildly. “Nuh-uh. I’m not covering for you again. It’s time you got your head out of your ass and just found a wife.”

Dean sighs irritably, sitting down with a huff by the fountain in the courtyard where they’re arguing. “Maybe _you_ can explain to me why in the world I need to do that.”

“Well, I imagine it’s kind of dark up there--”

“Find a wife, bitch,” Dean interrupts snappishly. “Why I need to find a wife.”

“Dad thinks you’ll make a better Sultan if--”

“I asked you, not Dad. Besides, Dad’s doing fine on his own.”

“Some would say he did better when Mom was around.”

“He’s doing the best he can,” Dean argues with a warning glare. Sam sighs.

“We’re off topic. That poor girl--”

“Dean!”

Dean jumps at the bark of his dad’s voice, scrambling to his feet as the Sultan storms out into the courtyard. Dean winces. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t running fast enough.

“Yes sir?”

“That poor girl called you a few choice words!" Dad bellows, still advancing. "What did you do to her?"

"Well, Sam attacked her, ended up with a shred of fabric that I think was her underwear--"

"Dean, this is the sixteenth girl you've terrorized," Dad interrupts testily. Dean can see Sam giving him a scandalized stare, but the kid should know he has nothing to worry about. There's no way Dad would believe a single word Dean said. He’s not even really paying attention. "I'm starting to think you're not taking this seriously."

"He's not," Sam mumbles helpfully. Dean shoots him a glare.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. All these girls are just interested in the fame and the money anyway. You know not a single one of them has asked a question about me?”

Dad pulls a face so distorted by sarcasm Dean can’t really tell what it’s supposed to mean. “That’s sweet, Dean. Really. But I’d like you to get married sometime _before_ I die!”

Dean grinds his teeth silently, knowing any arguing he does will be useless. Out of the corner of his eye he sees something black fly out of the palace and into a nearby tree. It takes Sam noticing the spot of dark and scowling before Dean realizes what it is. Crowley, that irritating parrot of Abaddon’s. The bird creeps along the branch he’s landed on before raising a wing and preening.

"I expect your next visitor to not storm away from the palace in a huff, Dean," Dad's saying. Dean turns his attention back to him, ignoring that he’s now fully aware of Sam glaring at Crowley. "Do you understand me?”

"Yes, sir," Dean replies on autopilot. Dad eyes him like he knows Dean's lying through his teeth, but he seems to not want to push it any further right now.

“I also expect you to make sure your brother actually comes with you to the next council meeting.”

“Excuse me?” Sam says incredulously, attention finally drawn away from the parrot. Dean winces.

“I tried, but--”

“Hey, I am right here,” Sam interrupts. “Dean’s not my nursemaid.”

“Perhaps if you came on your own I wouldn’t need to rely on Dean to bring you,” Dad replies scathingly.

“I don’t really see the point in me being there!” Sam argues. “I’m not going to be Sultan. That’ll be Dean. I’ll be in the background and forgotten about. Which I’m fine with, by the way. Maybe there I can actually do some good.”

"You could've done plenty of good at the council," Dad growls. "We spoke of how to deal with the poor and--"

"How to deal with them? They're people!"

"I'm not having one of your philosophical arguments with you right now. Next time I ask you to be at any type of meeting, I fully expect you to be there. And, Dean, I expect you to make certain that he comes." Without giving Sam the opportunity to argue any more, Dad turns on his heel and storms back inside. Sam groans loudly, running his hands through his hair. There’s a squawk from the tree, and Sam looks up with a glare at Crowley.

“What do you want?”

Crowley squawks once more before flapping off back into the palace. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“It’s a _bird_ , Sam.”

“Yeah, I’m not convinced,” Sam replies tersely. Keeping his eyes fixed on the parrot, Sam hurries after it. Dean huffs and follows.

“One of these days you’re gonna have to give up on this, you know,” he says breathlessly as he jogs to keep up with the long-legged giant he calls his brother. Crowley’s just visible ahead, gliding along easily near the ceiling.

“He reports back to her, Dean, I know it.”

“He’s a bird.”

“Yeah, he’s a parrot. You’ve heard him talk.”

“I’ve heard Crowley talk in the ‘Polly wanna cracker’ sort of way, yeah,” Dean agrees. “But actual talking? And you’ve lost him now so there’s that.”

Sam grumbles and slows to a stop, still glancing around above them for any sign of the dumb animal.

“I don’t get why you don’t think there’s something off about that parrot,” he says. “Everything surrounding Abaddon is fishy, you know that.”

Dean fights a sigh. “Yeah, I do. We could go through the list. She came outta nowhere.”

“No woman’s ever gotten any sort of position of power, much less the Grand Vizier,” Sam adds.

“Except Naomi,” Dean points out. “Head of the Guard’s pretty impressive.”

“Which I guarantee was Abaddon’s doing. Not to mention that one day Abaddon showed up here, and by the end of the week she was Grand Vizier.”

“No, I get it, Sam, I know,” Dean says, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “But her _bird_?”

“At the very least Crowley knows where Abaddon slinks off to all the time,” Sam says. “And if I can follow him there, I can find something to show Dad. Get him to admit there’s something wrong.”

“It’s gonna have to be pretty damn impressive evidence to do that,” Dean argues. “Abaddon showed up right when Dad was starting to lose it over Mom and his whole obsession about her being murdered. She helped him outta that.”

Sam scowls. “Trust me, Dean. I know.” There’s a pause, and then he sighs. “Look, I’m… I’m gonna go take a nap or, or read a book or something. Take a break, cool down.”

Dean nods. “Sounds like a good idea. I’ll come with you.”

Sam hesitates, just barely, but enough that Dean notices. “Um. Okay. Sure.”

Dean frowns. Sam’s hiding something. Which is kinda impressive, considering their relationship. Sam doesn’t say anything more, though, so they silently walk back to their shared chambers, Dean watching the back of Sam’s head suspiciously.

Charlie, one of the palace servants, is there when they arrive, a bunch of brown fabric in her hands like she’s waiting for them. She sees Sam first and hurries closer.

“You’re late. Did Dean’s--oh! Dean! Hi!”

Sam looks like he’s trying to shush Charlie without Dean noticing. Dean squints at the two of them before reaching out and grabbing some of the fabric from Charlie’s hands.

“What are the two of you doing? And why am I not involved?” He shakes out the fabric and frowns at it. “What is this? A cloak?”

Sam’s doing a decent job with keeping the guilt off his face, but Charlie has always worn her heart on her sleeve. Her mouth is twisting in a wince, and then she flashes him a big, toothy grin.

“Um, yeah. It is. We, uh…” She falters. “Sam?”

Sam closes his eyes and sighs in defeat. “We’re going to the bazaar.”

Dean looks between the two of them incredulously. “Are you kidding?”

Charlie’s back to her wince, and Sam just looks exasperated. “No, I’m not, Dean.”

“Do you have any idea what would happen to you if you were recognized?” Dean says, trying to keep the hysteria out of his voice. Sam rolls his eyes.

“What do you think the cloaks are for?”

“That doesn’t really help in your case, does it?” Dean cries.  "Everyone knows Prince Sam is a giant with floppy hair--"

“The cloak covers my hair, and I can slouch so I’m not as tall.”

"You've got to be joking!"

Sam sighs dramatically and takes the other cloak from Charlie. "Look, will you just cover for me with Dad?"

“You were just talking earlier about how you wouldn’t cover for me,” Dean argues. “What makes you think--”

“How many times have I covered for you, Dean?” Sam snaps. “And I’ve never asked you to do the same.”

“You're going to get kidnapped or mugged or--or killed! People are gonna see the prince and think 'huh, I wonder how much someone would pay for him'!" He glares at Charlie who’s still standing there awkwardly. “And if anyone should know better than this, it should be you!”

Charlie’s wince slides into a glare. “That’s why we’ve been doing this, you idiot.”

“What, so you can get yourselves killed like your mom did?” Dean cries. “And what do you mean you’ve _been_ doing this?”

Sam sighs and gives Charlie a short glare--she’s wincing again--before meeting Dean’s disbelieving stare.

“What happened to Charlie’s mom shouldn’t have happened,” he says steadily, calmly. “Charlie and I have been trying to get a feel for ourselves of what the root problems are and how to fix them.”

Dean looks between the two of them wildly before turning away and running a hand down his face. Charlie’s mom had been one of their nursemaids as kids, and Charlie had grown up with them because of it. But one night, in the middle of the night, Charlie had gotten scared. She’d asked her mom to go down to the bazaar to get candles for their chambers so it wouldn’t be so dark. Her mom had gone to the bazaar without a second thought, and some mugger had recognized the clothes of someone who worked inside the palace.

Sam and Dean had already lost their mom by the time it happened, and Charlie had been with them through that. So they were there with her through her loss. Dean could never really decide which had been worse: the entire kingdom mourning for their mother or not a single soul but them mourning for Charlie’s.

“When the hell did this start?” he asks hoarsely.

“A couple years ago,” Charlie answers quietly. “I’ve got a friend--”

“And there’s no way I’m convincing either of you to not do it anymore?” he asks, turning back to them.

“Nope,” Sam answers, clipped and immediate. Charlie seems hesitant so Dean gives a short nod.

“Fine. I’m coming with you.”

Charlie blinks. “Whoa, wait, what?”

Sam frowns, confused.

“You’re not coming, Charlie,” Dean says. “You’re staying here.”

“Excuse me, I’m--”

“That’s an order,” Dean snaps. “Sam’s made it clear I’m not convincing him to stay behind, and it looks like there’s only these two cloaks. And someone’s gotta keep on eye on gigantor here--”

“And, what, I can’t?” Charlie’s got her hands on her hips, eyes fiery and defiant.

Dean sighs. “I know first hand you can kick ass, Charlie. But you’re also like five feet tall and skinny as hell. Also, I’m the prince, and I’m giving you an order.”

Charlie looks like she could spit fire. “I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

Dean grins at her toothily. “I’m adorable, and you love me.”

The corners of Sam’s lips are twitching upwards, and Charlie notices. “Why are you siding with him?” she yells, desperation coloring her voice.

“We’ll find a third cloak for next time, okay?” Sam says, and he’s already pulling on his cloak. Charlie growls.

“You mean, I’ll find a third cloak.”

Sam shrugs, and Dean steps forward to kiss Charlie on the forehead. She grumbles, but she doesn’t push him away.

“If you two aren’t back first thing in the morning, I’m telling the Sultan everything,” she threatens.

“If we’re not back by morning, please do,” Dean says, throwing on his own cloak. “I don’t wanna die today. Why the fuck is this so small?” He grunts as he tries to pull the cloak down so it covers more of his legs. Sam raises an eyebrow.

“You were just talking about how small Charlie is.”

Charlie suddenly looks significantly more cheerful. She smirks at the two of them before skipping out the door. “Have fun!”

Dean’s pretty sure he’s never been quite so jumpy and nervous in his entire life. It’s taking everything he has not to just grab Sam by the wrist and drag him back to the palace. Or to hold onto Sam’s cloak like a frightened child. Which he’s not, by the way. A frightened child. He’s fine. He’s just… nervous. He keeps pulling on the too-small cloak, trying to cover up as much of himself as possible. It doesn’t seem to help. And Sam doesn’t seem to be having a single fucking problem, browsing the merchants’ set ups with a certain sort of fascination. It’s kinda pissing Dean off, actually.

Because honestly. No member of the royal family ever steps foot in the bazaar; they have servants for that. Except, apparently, Sam does. With Charlie. The thought makes Dean feel sick. The two of them are bleeding hearts, which, to a point, Dean understands. He remembers well the night Charlie’s mom never came back.

Sam’s stopped to chat with a jewelry merchant about something or another. Dean grumbles to himself and tugs at the cloak again, looking around at the crowd, feeling awkward and exposed. Someone is going to notice, he just knows it. Someone is going to recognize them, someone is going to know somehow that the two princes of Agrabah are just walking around the bazaar among everyone else without any sort of protection or anything, and there’s a kid over there who looks super miserable.

Dean stops fretting for a moment, something twisting in his gut. The little girl can’t be anymore than five, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around who’s responsible for her. She’s staring up at a beautiful set up of fruits; apples, watermelon, oranges, pears. She tries jumping and grabbing for the closest apple, but she misses and proceeds to look even more miserable.

He can’t stand it. So he’s a sap, who cares. Dean takes a few quick steps over beside her, grabs the apple, and squats down so he’s level with her.

“Here you go.”

The little girl grins, showing off a missing front tooth, plucks the apple from his hand and scurries away, disappearing into the crowd.

“You better be able to pay for that,” comes a growl from behind Dean. Dean stands and turns to see the fruit merchant glaring at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“No one steals from my cart!”

Dean glances around a little desperately. Sam’s too far away and hasn’t noticed anything’s wrong yet.

“Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t have any money on me, but--”

“Thief!” the merchant bellows.

Well, shit.

People are starting to stare. Dean can’t see Sam anymore--a crowd is already gathering, blocking him from view.

“Look, if you let me go to the palace I can get some money from the Sultan--”

“Do you know what the penalty is for stealing?!”

“Yes, actually--”

The man reaches out, faster than Dean would’ve guessed the guy could move, and snatches Dean by the wrist, yanking him forward. He slams Dean’s hand on the counter, pulling out a fucking huge cleaver out of nowhere, raising it high.

“Allah! No, please, wait!”

He’s going to kill Sam for this, he really will.

The metal is glinting in the sunlight, and Dean’s probably babbling, but he’s about to lose his fucking hand, and--

An arm shoots out of nowhere, slim fingers wrapping around the merchant’s forearm, preventing him from bringing the cleaver down. Dean looks over, fully expecting his savior to be Sam, but instead it’s some stranger. Dark hair and deep blue eyes. The stranger flashes a winning smile at the merchant.

“Thank you, kind sir. I’m so glad you’ve found him.”

The merchant looks just as confused as Dean feels, but it’s a good enough distraction for Dean to wrench his wrist away. The stranger lets go of the merchant’s arm and turns to Dean.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Dean just stares, utterly bewildered.

“You know this man?” the merchant asks. The stranger lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Sadly, yes.”

Dean’s pretty sure he’s offended by that response.

“He’s my brother. He’s a little crazy,” the stranger says in a loud stage whisper.

Okay, yeah, Dean’s offended.

“He said he knows the Sultan!”

The stranger just rolls with it. “He thinks the monkey is the Sultan.”

What in the fuck.

The stranger jerks his head toward something, and then Dean notices the small little monkey wearing a little vest by the stranger’s feet. In a split second decision, Dean throws himself on the ground, prostrating himself in front of the monkey.

“Oh, wise Sultan. How may I serve you?”

There are a few snickers from the surrounding crowd. Dean bites the inside of his cheek and ignores them. The monkey, on the other hand, seems to love the attention and puffs up importantly, waving his hands and chattering.

“Tragic, isn’t it?” the stranger continues, and he’s really laying it on thick now. “But! No harm done.” He clasps his hands on Dean’s upper arms with an insane grip--which, uh, okay--and pulls him up to his feet. “Now come along, brother. Time to see the doctor.”

He drags Dean along with him, and there, finally, Dean sees Sam, right at the front of the dissipating crowd. Fuck it.

“Why, hello, doctor,” he says, meeting Sam’s eyes directly as the stranger continues to pull Dean away from the fruit merchant. “How are you?”

Sam’s eyes are twinkling with amusement, and Dean really is going to kill him later.

“No, no, no, not that one,” the stranger says. He calls over his shoulder. “C’mon, Sultan!”

Dean cranes his neck to see the monkey bowing to the crowd with a flourish, a deep and low bow, causing a small pile of gold coins hidden in his vest to spill out onto the ground.

“Thief!”

The stranger grabs Dean by the wrist and runs. Dean just barely manages to grab Sam before they disappear into the crowd.

It’s been an exhausting couple of days. Yesterday Cas and Gabe only managed to stay one jump ahead of the Head of the Guard, that Naomi bitch, all damn long day. Over a loaf of bread too. And then today… Well, Cas couldn’t just stand by and watch that naive guy get his hand chopped off for being nice to a kid. Cas would’ve done the same thing. He just would’ve been more sneaky about it.

Cas helps the two strangers up over the ladder onto the roof. The older one--the pretty one--smiles at him warmly.

“I… I wanted to thank you for stopping that man.”

Cas shrugs. “Forget it. That your first time in the bazaar?”

“It’s his,” the younger one--the tall one--says a little petulantly. The older glares before looking embarrassed at Cas.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you do kinda stand out,” Cas says. Pretty throws Tall another withering glare. Cas backtracks.

“Uh, I mean, you don’t seem to know how dangerous Agrabah can be.”

“Trust me,” Pretty says, still looking annoyed as hell. “I wanted to stay home.”

Cas honestly has no idea how to respond to that. So he just nods and smiles, gesturing for the two of them to follow him.

“C’mon, this way.”

Cas leads them inside the roof of the neighboring building, dodging the planks and beams on instinct. He hears a thunk behind him and winces, turning. Tall is rubbing at his forehead, mouth twisted in pain.

“Sorry. Watch your head.”

“Is this where you live?” Pretty asks, looking significantly more pleased all of a sudden. Cas is starting to wonder about the two strangers’ relationship. Could they be brothers? They certainly communicate like brothers….

“Yeah. Just me and Gabe,” Cas replies, gesturing at the monkey already settling on his favorite perch. “Come and go as we please.”

“It’s… nice….” Tall says, a little strained. Cas grins.

“It’s not much, I know. But it’s got a fantastic view.”

Maybe Cas is a little dramatic when he pulls the sheet to the side. But the view that he’s revealing is dramatic so it’s justified. Oh, and the sun is setting right behind the palace, the timing is perfect. So, no, he’s not being a little dramatic.

“Palace looks amazing, huh?”

Pretty steps closer to the window, eyes wide in admiration. Tall, on the other hand, lets out a huff and sits heavily, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Tall drawls. Cas frowns at him, but Pretty flaps a hand at him, sitting down on the window’s ledge.

“Ignore him, he’s just being a baby.”

Cas wants to push, but he doesn’t even know these guys’ names. It’s probably not his place. So he shrugs it off and turns his attention back to the palace, glowing hues of oranges and reds making it look even more spectacular than usual.

“I wonder what it would be like to live there, to have servants and valets…”

Tall lets out a loud snort. Pretty ignores him pointedly. “It can’t be all that it’s cracked up to be,” he says with a shrug. “People tell you where to go and how to dress…”

“Sure, but it’s gotta be better than here,” Cas argues, a little amused. “Always scraping for food and ducking the guards.”

Pretty’s giving him a strange look, but Cas is pretty sure he’s returning it. Okay, maybe palace life isn’t perfect, but who’s gonna complain?

The stares last a little too long before either of them notice. Cas breaks it suddenly, snatching the apple Gabe is about to start snacking on out of his hands, ignoring the annoyed squawks the monkey makes. He hands it to Pretty who takes it with a small little smile that might be a better sight than the palace.

“So,” Cas asks, sitting down beside Pretty. “Where’re you from?”

The smile drops. “Uh. It doesn’t matter. No where special.”

Another snort from Tall. Cas is starting to wonder if he’s got a condition.

“Really?” Cas asks. “What about your family?”

“Well, half of my family is right over there being grumpy,” Pretty says with a smile, pointing at Tall. So Cas was right--they are brothers.

“My mom died when we were little, and my dad…. “ Pretty lets out a loud sigh. “I love him, but he’s trying really hard to get me married, and it’s… it’s….”

“You loathe it, don’t try to make it any better,” Tall says without shifting his position at all. Pretty’s mouth twists.

“Yeah, I do.”

Gabe suddenly appears directly behind Pretty, shooting out to try and snatch the apple out of Pretty’s hands.

“Gabe!” Cas shouts, batting him away. Greedy little thief. Gabe races away, back up to his perch, chattering angrily.

“He can have it…” Pretty says slowly. Cas waves him off.

“No, no, he was just saying that, uh… that’s not fair.”

Gabe looks indignant. Pretty smiles, and okay, he’s not buying it at all.

“Oh, did he?”

“Yeah, of course.” Cas is gonna kick himself later for this, isn’t he?

“And does… Gabe… have anything else to say?” Pretty asks, scooting a little closer. Cas finds he can’t move an inch.

“Um. He wishes there was something he could do to help.”

The smile on Pretty’s face is incredible. “Tell him that’s very sweet.”

“Allah above, get a room,” Tall gripes. Gabe seems to agree. But Cas barely hears either of them. Pretty has green eyes, he realizes. And there are freckles all over his face, even on his ears. His lips are impossibly pink and amazingly plump, and--

“Here you are!”

Shit. That’s Naomi.

There’s a burst of curses from all three of them. Pretty jumps forward and grabs his brother, dragging him back and away from the oncoming guard.

“I told you!” he hisses.

“Dad must’ve sent them,” Tall is saying a little frantically. Cas looks over the edge of the window. They could make it. There’s a nice pile of salt down there to cushion the landing. They’ll all be bruised, but they could make it without breaking any bones. He turns to Pretty and holds out his hand as Gabe jumps onto Cas’s shoulder.

“Do you trust me?”

Pretty frowns at him. “What?”

“Do you trust me?” Cas repeats urgently. Slowly, Pretty takes his hand, still holding onto his brother with the other hand.

“Yes…”

“Then jump!”

They jump. Tall follows a little belatedly, yelling at his brother, “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

They land hard, tumbling down the pile of salt.

“Me?” Pretty yells back at Tall as they scramble back to their feet.

“Run!” Cas orders. He gets it, he really does, they’re brothers, that’s how it works, but now is really not the time to fight.

“This was all _your_ idea!” Pretty continues as they break into a sprint. From an alleyway, a couple guards step out and block their way.

“We just keep running into each other, don’t we, street rat?” one of them seethes. Cas winces as the three of them skid to a stop. He recognizes the guard from the other day. Gabe jumps at the guard, landing on his head, and yanking his turban down over his eyes. There’s a bellow of frustration as the three of them turn to run the other way, but Cas feels something grab the back of his vest, yanking him back, and suddenly, there are four guards on him, holding him back. _Where’s Gabe?_

“It’s the dungeon for you, boy.” And there’s Naomi, finally joining them again. “You came off the line with a crack in your chassis, and we’re finally going to fix that.”

Cas struggles against the grips on his arms. Fix it, yeah, sure, whatever. Naomi’s version of fixing things is throwing them away, down in the dark where no one will ever find them.

“Let me go!” he growls.

Only a couple feet away, Pretty comes to a halt and turns. After a moment, Tall realizes and stops as well. He hisses something at Pretty, but Cas can’t hear it. Probably some sort of incredulous question of what in the hell he’s doing.

“Let go of him,” Pretty commands, a hard set to his jaw. His face is mostly hidden in shadow, the hood of his cloak pulled over his head, but there’s a hard glint to his eyes all the same.

“Oh, would you look at that. The street rat has a friend,” Naomi drawls. There’s a chorus of chuckles from the guards holding Cas. Pretty pulls off his hood and takes a step closer. Behind him, his brother reaches out as if to stop him, wincing.

“Unhand him, by order of the prince.”

Cas feels something like the ground dropping out from beneath him, and it’s not just because the guards are suddenly forcing him to bow, deep and low.

“Prince Dean,” Naomi murmurs, also bowing. There’s a squawk of surprise from inside a vase by the wall, and Cas feels a fraction of the tension leave. Gabe’s okay.

Prince Dean stands tall and strong, glaring at Naomi like she’s a particularly nasty cockroach. Behind him, his brother--that must be Prince Sam--lets out a sigh and steps forward as well.

“Pardon me, your Majestys, but what are you doing outside the palace? And with this street rat?” Naomi asks.

“That is none of your concern,” Prince Dean says. “Do as I command. Release him!”

“Well, I would, your Majesty,” Naomi says slowly, “but my orders come from the Grand Vizier. You’ll have to take it up with her.”

Prince Dean is practically seething, and Cas is feeling a little numb with shock. The eldest Prince--Pretty, Cas thought he was _pretty_ \--folds his arms over his chest.

“Believe me, I will.”

Dean’s pretty sure he’s never been so furious in his life. That man--whatever his name was--had done nothing wrong. Maybe he’d technically helped Dean steal fruit, but it was a single fucking apple and the guy hadn’t actually been the one doing the stealing! Sam seems a little taken aback by how irate Dean is, but Dean doesn’t really have the time for Sam right now. Luckily, the kid has the sense not to argue about going back to the palace right away. Dean needs to talk to Abaddon, and he needs to talk to Abaddon _now_.

It’s morning before he finally finds Abaddon in the lounge being weirdly sneaky as usual, but for once he doesn’t confront her about it.

“Abaddon!”

“Your Highness,” Abaddon says, with a small bow. “How may I be of service to you?”

“The guards just took a man from the bazaar, on your orders.”

“Your father’s charged me with keeping peace in Agrabah. The boy was a criminal,” she says smoothly, like Dean isn’t glaring at her murderously.

“What was the crime?”

“Why, for kidnapping the princes, of course.”

Of all the-- “He didn’t kidnap us!” Dean cries. “We went out on our own!”

Abaddon’s eyes widen, and she walks away, her hand to her mouth. “Oh my. Oh, how frightfully upsetting. Had I but known…”

Dean feels something nasty twist in his stomach. “What do you mean?” he asks quietly.

“Sadly, the boy’s sentence has already been carried out,” Abaddon says, turning back to him, with the most regretful expression etched into her face. Dean swallows thickly.

“What was his sentence?”

“Death. By beheading.”

There’s a buzzing in Dean’s ears, and a stone in his throat.

“I am exceedingly sorry, your Highness,” Abaddon says sincerely.

“Next time,” Dean says hoarsely, “you talk to me before killing someone who supposedly kidnapped me.”

Abaddon inclines her head in agreement. “Of course, your Highness.”

Sam and Charlie are both out in the courtyard, deep in conversation, when Dean comes storming back outside. They both look up, Sam taking a step forward.

“It didn’t go well then?”

Dean is breathing heavily through his nose, and he’s seeing red. Killed him. She _killed_ him.

“He’s dead,” he manages to say through gritted teeth. Charlie’s the first to respond.

“What?”

“Abaddon had him killed,” Dean says tersely, and, no, he’s not blinking back tears, he’s not.

“What the hell for?” Sam asks.

“Kidnapping us.”

“But he didn’t--”

“I know, Sam!” Dean barks, and Charlie jumps slightly. Dean sighs and goes to sit by the fountain, rubbing at his eyes. After a moment he hears Sam sit down next to him.

“Dean, he--I mean, he was a, a common criminal.”

Dean looks up to glare at him. “He was a thief, Sam. That doesn’t warrant execution.”

“So was the guy who killed my mom,” Charlie supplies helpfully. “Just a mugger who saw an opportunity.”

Dean turns his glare on her. “This guy saved my life, Charlie. He wouldn’t kill anyone.”

“You don’t know--”

“Yes, I do!” Dean bellows, and this time Charlie doesn’t jump. Instead she sets her jaw and sits down on his other side, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“He thought you were another commoner like him. That’s why he saved your life. You knew him for an evening, that’s all. You have no idea what he was capable of or what he’d done.”

“That doesn’t mean he deserved to be fucking beheaded for something he didn’t even do,” Dean says, feeling the fight drain out of him. “I thought you two were all about fighting for the common man.”

“And fighting crime,” Charlie adds.

“Though, you’re right. He didn’t deserve the fate Abaddon chose for him,” Sam says. “And this...this is my fault, Dean,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t insisted on leaving the palace yesterday--”

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says.

“No, it’s not. I got a man killed today. That’s… Allah. And you…”

Dean looks up to see Sam looking at him with the most guilty and apologetic expression he’s ever seen. Sam shrugs a little awkwardly.

“You seemed to really like him. Even if you didn’t really… know him.”

Dean huffs. “Yeah. I don’t know. He just seemed kind and good and, and did you see his eyes? They were so blue and… and I didn’t even know his name.” Dean drops his head into his hands. He’s got a headache right between his eyes, and he’s so fucking tired.

“I don’t... “ Charlie starts awkwardly after a few minutes of silence. “Dean, I don’t wanna be that person, but you’ve got another suitor coming today, remember? You should… you should get some rest before she arrives.” She pauses. “And I’m sorry.”

It takes Dean a moment before he can look up with a sigh. “Don’t be sorry. It’s close to home for you. And... yeah. You’re right.” He looks at Sam. “Did you get any sleep?”

Sam smiles at him softly. “I’m fine. Go get some rest. We’ll wake you up when she gets here.”

“Thanks,” Dean says before walking back inside and heading to his chambers. He could sleep for the next twenty years.

The _princes_. Both of them. In his stupid little mess of a hideout Cas called home. He must’ve of looked, sounded, acted so fucking _stupid_ to them. Who cares if he’s locked up in some gross and dark dungeon, Cas can’t believe he embarrassed himself so much in front of the princes of Agrabah.

There’s a familiar chattering somewhere above his head, and Cas looks up with a frown. There’s a small window high in the wall, and there’s a dark figure perched in the window.

“Gabe!” he cries with relief. “Down here! Help me outta these.” He jangles on the cuffs holding his arms above his head a little weakly. His fingers have long gone numb. Gabe swings down the rafters and lands gracefully on the floor in front of Cas. Then he starts chattering again, a certain irritated tone to it, pulling his vest up over his head like a hood and fluttering his eyes. Cas scowls.

“Hey, he was in trouble.” He sighs heavily. “Ah, it was worth it.”

Gabe glares at him before scrambling up to the cuffs. He pulls his lock picks out of his vest and starts working at the lock.

“Anyway, don’t worry about it,” Cas continues. “I’ll never see him again. Street rat, remember? And he’s a fucking prince. They’re both princes. How badly did I embarrass myself, Gabe?”

Gabe just looks at him. There’s a click and Gabe pulls at the cuffs, freeing Cas. Cas drops his arms, rubbing at his wrists with a wince.

“Yeah, I know. I’m a fool.”

“You’re only a fool if you give up, boy.”

Cas jumps, startled, as a small, ancient old lady hobbles out of the shadows. She’s practically bent in two she’s so hunched, leaning heavily on a short cane, skin hanging off her bones, white hair so thin Cas can see practically her entire skull.

“Who are you?” Cas asks as Gabe scrambles to his shoulder.

“A lowly prisoner, like yourself,” the old woman croons. “But together, perhaps we can be more.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a cave, boy. A cave of wonders. Filled with treasures beyond your wildest dreams. Treasure enough to impress even your prince, I’d wager.” She pokes roughly at Cas’s shin with her cane.

“But I’m--” Cas starts, backing away from the cane.

“You’ve heard of the golden rule, haven’t you, boy?” She pulls the cane back, resting her chin on the end of it. “Whoever has the gold makes the rules.”

She grins, and Cas tries really hard not to look disgusted. He can count, two, maybe three teeth left in her mouth, and they’re both black and rotten.

“So why would you share all this wonderful treasure with me?” Cas asks suspiciously. There’s something about this woman that’s just off. Making his skin crawl. And he can’t quite figure out what it is.

“I need a young man with strong legs and a strong back to go in after it,” she says with another poke to his shin. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. The old lady probably couldn’t carry more than a couple coins of gold at the most.

“One problem,” Cas says. “It’s out there. We’re in here.”

The old woman grins again before hobbling over to the wall and pushing at one of the large bricks with her cane. The brick slides back easily, revealing the open desert beyond the wall. Cas stares.

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” the old woman says. “So. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Cas doesn’t know how any sort of treasure would help him ever even see Prince Dean again. At least not right away. Maybe he could sell the treasure and make himself fancy, but he’ll still be a nobody no matter what he does.

...But then again. Having the treasure couldn’t hurt.

They’ve been walking for hours. Gabe has fallen asleep draped across Cas’s shoulders, and Cas would really love to collapse as well, but this old woman has incredible stamina for someone her age. She’s explained the plan at least six times now. Apparently there’s some lamp in this cave out in the middle of the desert and she wants that lamp. Badly. The rest of the treasure is Cas and Gabe’s, but there’s a sort of curse on it that won’t allow the treasure to be touched until the lamp has left the cave. Or something. Cas doesn’t really understand. All he knows is don’t touch anything but the lamp, get the lamp to the creepy old lady, then all the treasure is his. Simple enough.

Finally the old woman stops hobbling. Cas resists the urge to crumple into the sand as she reaches into her cloak and rummages around. After a moment or two she pulls out two gold pieces that glitter in the moonlight. Cas stares at them in wonder.

“Where did you get those?”

The old woman smirks slyly. “We all have our secrets.”

She holds the two pieces together and there’s a small click as they join to form a beautiful gold beetle. Cas only gets a brief glimpse of it before it rockets out of the old woman’s fingers and crash lands into a dune just fifty feet or so away. The dune starts shaking, and Gabe stirs on Cas’s shoulders. He scrambles to his feet, and they both stare as the dune grows and forms a gigantic tiger’s head.

“Who disturbs my slumber?” the head booms. Cas glances at the old woman who gives him an encouraging nod. Cas walks forward, staring up at the tiger.

“It is I, Castiel.”

“Proceed,” the tiger rumbles. “Touch nothing but the lamp.” It opens it’s mouth wide, and beyond the fangs Cas can see a winding staircase. The walls inside seem to glow with gold.

“Remember, boy!” the old woman cries from behind him. “First fetch me the lamp, and then you shall have your reward!”

“C’mon, Gabe,” Cas says, steeling himself up. It’s beautiful in there, sure. But it’s also terrifying. Cas glances at Gabe to realize the poor monkey’s curled up and hidden under the shoulder of Cas’s vest. Cas sighs and steps forward.

The stairs seem to go on forever, but they finally reach the end of them. At the foot of the stairs there’s piles here and there of bones stained a sickly yellow. Cas had thought those were gold on the walk down, but now that he’s close…. He looks at Gabe, but he’s still got Cas’s vest pulled over his eyes. He walks past the skeletons quickly before reaching up to gently pet Gabe’s head.

“Hey. It’s okay, Gabe.”

All around them are stacks and stacks of gold and precious jewels. Cas would be willing to bet that it’s more wealth than even the Sultan himself has ever seen.

Slowly, Cas makes his way through the stacks. Everything is so packed together that it’s actually a little hard to walk through it without touching anything. After a few quiet moments Gabe pokes his head out from beneath Cas’s vest. There’s a beat and then Gabe vaults from Cas’s shoulder towards a smaller pile of treasure.

“Gabe, no!” Cas yells, snatching for him and missing. Gabe comes skidding to a stop just inches from a beautiful black rug on the floor. Cas hurries up to him and glares.

“Don’t touch anything!” he orders through gritted teeth. “We gotta find that lamp!”

Gabe looks dutifully guilty and deflates. Cas gives him one last glare before walking on. The less time they can spend in here before finding the lamp, the better. Gabe’s always had a little bit of a compulsive nature when it comes to treasure, and it’s already gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past.

Cas can finally see a way out of this enormous room of gold--the old woman had said the lamp would be separated from everything else--when Gabe starts chattering excitedly and tugging on Cas’s pant leg.

“Gabe, will you knock it off?” he hisses, trying to shake him off. Gabe backs off with a disappointed noise, and Cas continues forward.

They’re close, they’re almost out of this room, when all of a sudden there’s a rogue monkey on Cas’s head, forcing him to look behind them

“What are you, crazy?” Cas yells, yanking Gabe off his head. Movement catches his eye, and Cas looks up, heart leaping to his throat. They should be alone in here, shouldn’t they?

From behind a pile of treasure walks a black carpet, decorated with intricate silver thread--the same carpet Gabe almost touched earlier. And, yeah, it walks. It kinda looks rather sassy, actually, waving a tassel at them with a touch of attitude.

“A magic carpet,” Cas breathes, taking a step forward. Somehow, Cas really can’t pick out how exactly, the carpet looks proud at the recognition. It takes off the fez--oh, hey, that’s Gabe’s, no wonder he was freaking out--that’s placed precariously on the top edge and dusts it off with a tassel, holding it out for Gabe. Gabe carefully crawls down Cas and over to the carpet, snatching his fez away and putting it emphatically back on his own head. He turns around to crawl back to Cas, and the magic carpet reaches out to pat the monkey on the head. Gabe screeches and scrambles back up Cas’s shoulder, gesturing wildly.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Cas says, a little startled. “She’s not gonna bite.”

The carpet looks put out and turns to walk away, an annoyed set to what would be it’s shoulders.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Cas says quickly, taking a few steps after it. “Don’t go. Maybe you can help us.”

The carpet turns back around, tassels standing out in elation. Cas grins.

“You see, we’re trying to find this lamp.”

The carpet speeds past them, motioning for them to follow. A thrill of excitement runs through Cas, and he hurries after the carpet. They pass through a lone, dark cave after the entryway Cas had noticed earlier. The carpet keeps looking back to make sure they’re still following before zooming off another few feet. Finally, the tunneled cave opens up to a huge cavern, a small lake covering the floor. Smack in the middle of the lake is an impossibly tall pillar of stone, steep stairs carved out onto one side. There’s an opening to the outside world somewhere above it because a brilliant stream of light shines directly on the top of the pillar, and there, glittering dimly, is a lamp. Between where they stand and the pillar are a few stepping stones, unevenly placed and way too small. Cas pushes down the nerves and coaxes Gabe off his shoulder.

“Wait here,” he says before taking a cautious step onto the closest stone. Gabe huffs behind him, but Cas doesn’t pay attention. These steps are too small for him to lose his concentration.

He makes it across the stones only almost falling in the water once, and then begins the long climb up the stairs. How he’s going to make it back down with the lamp in his hands, he has no idea, but he’ll worry about that when he gets to it.

Finally, the muscles in his arms throbbing with a dull soreness, Cas makes it to the top. Slowly, reverently, he approaches the lamp and picks it up.

 

“This is it?” he mutters, inspecting the thing. It’s old, it’s dull, it’s scratched, and it really doesn’t look valuable at all. “This is what we came all the way down here to--”

Something, a sudden burst of movement draws his attention away, down to where the carpet and Gabe are waiting. The carpet looks panicked, reaching out toward the bolting monkey. Gabe is in mid-spring toward a gigantic golden ape with an equally gigantic ruby in it’s hands.

“Gabe, NO!”

But it’s too late. Gabe snatches the ruby out of the statue’s hands, practically drooling. The effect is immediate.

“Infidels!” The booming voice of the cave reverberates through the walls like an earthquake. The look of wonder on Gabe’s face vanishes into terror and guilt. Timidly, he places the ruby back in the golden hands.

“You have touched the forbidden treasure! Now you will never again see the light of day!”

Just as Gabe’s fingers leave the ruby, the golden statue starts to melt. Cas watches in horror as the gold seeps to the floor, forcing Gabe to scurry backwards. In a flurry of motion, Cas readjusts his grip on the lamp and sprints back down the stairs. Only two feet down the stairs suddenly flatten to a completely smooth surface, and Cas tumbles. He slams his eyes shut, nails digging into his palm, absolutely refusing to let go of the handle of the lamp as he slides downward fast.

Just before Cas anticipates hitting the water, the surface beneath him changes. He opens his eyes again to see the magic carpet--Allah bless the thing, honestly--managed to catch him. Just in time too, Cas realizes as the lava below gurgles angrily. It had been water earlier, hadn’t it?

Gabe’s moved to the stepping stones, and the carpet’s already adjusted its course to pick him up. The lava’s popping and hissing, and Gabe is panicking, and Cas almost misses grabbing him because the monkey’s jumping around so much. As soon as Cas has a grip on him, though, he scrambles up Cas’s arm and latches himself to the top of Cas’s head.

“Gabe, this is no time to panic!” he yells as he tries to pry him off.

Thank Allah the carpet seems to know this place inside and out. The heat behind them is intense, and Cas looks back to see an enormous wave of lava chasing them. He looks ahead again and gulps. It’s just a solid wall of stone.

“Okay, start panicking,” he says, heart leaping his throat. The carpet dives right before hitting the wall, and they shoot down a tunnel, the walls shaking and crumbling all around them. The carpet weaves in and out between huge falling pieces of stone, and Cas just hunkers down and holds on for dear life, Gabe’s claws digging into his skin.

Finally, _finally_ , Cas can see the cave’s entrance, the old woman standing just past it. The carpet puts on an extra burst of speed as the mouth of the cave starts to growl and collapse. A boulder drops from out of nowhere, barely missing Cas, and knocking the carpet out from under him. He leaps and manages to grab the remains of the stairs to the entrance with his free hand. The old woman hobbles a little closer.

“Help!” he cries, reaching for her.

“Throw me the lamp!” she yells back, gesturing with a bony hand.

“I can’t hold on!” Cas yells as his fingers slip. “Give me your hand!”

“First give me the lamp!”

Cas growls in frustration and tosses the lamp toward her. She catches it easily and crows, raising the lamp above her head in triumph.

“At last!” she bellows, and Cas could swear her voice is deeper. “At last!”

Cas swings his now free hand up to the remaining steps, trying with all his might to pull himself back up. Gabe scurries up his arm and tugs. But the old woman steps forward and smacks Gabe aside before dropping to her knees and grabbing Cas’s wrists.

“What are you doing?!” Cas yells, panic jolting through him.

“Giving you your reward,” she drawls, deep and rich. “Your eternal reward.”

From her cloak she pulls a jagged dagger and raises it high with one hand. Cas watches it in horror, paralyzed with fear and shock. Gabe scrambles up the old woman’s raised arm and bites down on her skinny wrist. She lets out a scream, letting go of Cas.

Cas falls.

His head is throbbing. No, scratch that. His entire body is throbbing.

Cas wakes up with a groan. He takes his time opening his eyes and sitting up. Gabe draws back when he does, eyes wide but looking relieved. He probably was worried Cas was dead. Cas is pretty sure he’d rather be--everything hurts.

The carpet is also sitting to the side anxiously. It’s looking upward, tassels tapping together nervously. Cas follows its gaze to see… nothing. Just stone. The cave closed.

They’re trapped.

Cas kicks at the dirt angrily. “That two-faced bitch.” He sighs, dropping his face into his hands. “Well. Whoever she was, she’s long gone with the lamp by now.”

There’s a quiet chirp from Gabe, and Cas looks back up to see Gabe holding the lamp out. Cas stares.

“Why, you hairy little thief!”

Gabe grins proudly as Cas takes the lamp to inspect it. “Looks like such a beat up, worthless piece of junk. Wait... I think there’s something etched here,” he says with a frown, bringing it closer. He rubs at the etching with his palm, trying to get rid of some of the dirt. “It’s hard to make out.”

A little wisp of smoke curls out of the lamp’s spout. Cas stares at it. There’s something vibrating in the lamp, but surely that’s just his imagination. He hit his head pretty hard, after all. But the vibrating gets more intense, and the lamp actually starts glowing. Cas glances at Gabe who’s staring at the lamp in awe, and okay, maybe he’s not crazy. From the spout more and more smoke pours out, thicker and thicker until it forms the shape of a man.

  

“Ahhh,” the man sighs, rolling his neck. “Stuck in a lamp for years. I wouldn’t recommend it.” He looks down at Cas and holds out a hand. “Good to meet you. What’s your name?”

Cas stares at the offered hand. “Uh. Cas.”

“Cas. Nice and short. I like it. How about the little guy?” He turns to Gabe expectantly. Gabe lets out a terrified little squeak.

“Gabe,” the man says with a nod. “Also short. Hey, Carpet, buddy!”

The carpet floats forward easily, and the man inspects it thoroughly. “Still in spit spot shape, good. All your threads still in place? Good, good.”

Cas rubs at his eyes furiously. “I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought,” he mutters. The man chuckles.

“Trust me, brother, you didn’t. This is all real,” he says with a wide, sweeping gesture that then gracefully dips into a bow. “A humble djinni at your service, Master. Friends call me Benny.”

“Master?” Cas echoes.

The man--well, djinni, apparently--grins, the whiskers of his beard twitching with amusement. “You rubbed my lamp, didn’t you?”

Cas stares at the lamp still sitting in his lap. “I… How did… You…” He stops and tries again. “How long’ve you been stuck in here? Last time I heard of a djinni around was… was years ago.”

“Not sure, actually,” the djinni says with a shrug. “You kinda lose track of time cooped up like that. How long’s it been, Carpet?”

The carpet shrugs. The djinni nods. “Exactly. What other questions do you have?”

Cas blinks at him for a moment. “Um. The cave said we couldn’t touch anything but the lamp. But I’m pretty sure Gabe touched the carpet before everything…”

“Went to hell?” the djinni finishes for him. “That’s because the carpet here is sentient. Chances are she touched the monkey before the monkey touched her, anyway. Now why don’t you ask the question you’re nervous to ask?”

Cas stares, then swallows thickly. “What do you mean, ‘master’?”

“You get three wishes,” the djinni says, holding up three fingers. “Wishes for whatever you like: wealth, power, glory. The only rules are one: no wishing for more wishes. Two: I can’t kill anyone. Three: I can’t make anyone fall in love with anyone else. Four: I can’t bring people back from the dead.”

Cas stares at the lamp again. No wonder the old woman wanted it so badly. “So… I just…”

There’s a sudden squawking from Gabe, and Cas looks up to see the djinni frowning at Gabe.

“Sorry, little man, no can do. You weren’t the one who rubbed the lamp.”

Gabe glares before running to Cas and snatching the lamp. He holds it out and rubs at it furiously. The djinni looks amused.

“I truly am sorry, Gabe, but that magic’s far too powerful for me to overcome,” he says with a shake of his head. Cas frowns at Gabe. He’s pretty sure he knows what Gabe must be asking for but…. Gabe looks thoroughly irritated before squawking again. The djinni laughs.

“All right, all right. I’ll get you out of here. But that’s your first wish. Only two left.”

The djinni--Benny, he insists--blasts all four of them out of the cave with what seems like barely any effort. The magic carpet seems head-over-heels thrilled to be out of there once they land by a little oasis, zooming around in circles so fast it’s making Cas dizzy. Cas and Gabe go immediately for the pool of water, grateful for the chance to finally get rid of all the dirt and soot from earlier.

“Now,” the djinni--Benny, Cas corrects himself--says expectantly. “Your friend here’s used one of his wishes. How about you, Cas? What’re you gonna wish for?

Cas slows in the middle of washing his arms, thinking. Three wishes…. Two days ago if you’d told him he could have anything in the world for three wishes, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity, but now…. For some reason, he can’t think of anything.

“What would you wish for?” he asks Benny instead. Benny seems to freeze, even though he wasn’t actually moving before, and stares at Cas.

“Me?”

Cas shrugs, shaking the water off his arms. “Yeah. Why not?”

“I don’t… No one’s ever asked me that before,” Benny says slowly. Cas frowns at him.

“Really?”

Benny’s mouth twists. “I’m djinni,” he says. “My purpose is to grant wishes, not make them.”

“Still,” Cas insists. “If you could.”

Benny shakes his head, looking supremely forlorn. It’s a little weird, actually. Cas had been starting to wonder if the djinni ever stopped smiling.

“If I could… I’d… ah, forget it.”

Cas climbs back up to his feet, walking to the djinni. “What? No, tell me.”

Benny stares at him for a moment before sighing. “Freedom.”

“You’re a prisoner?” Cas asks, confused. Benny presents his wrists to him, and Cas suddenly notices the thick golden cuffs there. The cuffs of a slave.

“Like I said. I’m djinni. Phenomenal cosmic power, itty bitty living space,” he says, nodding at the lamp sitting by Gabe. “But to be free… To be my own master. There are people I could…. Well. I could go places, see things. I’ve traveled a fair bit in my day, but humans are constantly growing and building, and I’d love to see it all. To do what I want. For myself.”

“Is that… is that even possible?” Cas asks, almost scared to know the answer. Benny scoffs.

“The only way I get outta this is if my master wishes me out. So you can guess how often that’s happened.”

Gabe’s come up to the two of them, lamp dragging behind him. Even he looks a little saddened by the djinni’s plight. It’s Gabe’s small frown, actually, that makes up Cas’s mind.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says to Benny, who looks at him suspiciously. “With my last wish? I’ll set you free.”

Benny blinks at him, stunned. “No,” he says after a second. “No, don’t waste a wish like that.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste,” Cas says. “I don’t… I don’t really need that much, I’ve lived on the streets my whole life, I’m comfortable living small. So I might as well help you out.”  
“Why?” Benny asks, still looking stunned. Cas shrugs.

“I don’t know. I haven’t known you that long, but I kinda like you. We could be friends.”

Benny huffs, and Cas thinks it’s supposed to be a laugh. “Never had a friend like you.”

Cas can’t help but grin. “Well, I never had a friend like you so. What do you say? Deal?”

Benny continues to stare at him for a few moments longer before taking Cas’s proffered hand and shaking it.

“Deal.”

It’s still quiet and weirdly somber for a few seconds after they let go, but then Benny rolls his head and cracks his knuckles, throwing up the same grin from earlier.

“So how about it. What is it you want most?”

Cas thinks for a moment. “Well. There’s this guy…”

Benny raises an eyebrow. “I can’t make anybody fall in love, remember?”

Cas isn’t sure how feels about Benny being able to tell just from his tone. “No, I know. I don’t know what you can do, really. He’s a prince, and I only met him and his brother for a couple hours, and I don’t even know if he’s… into that.”

“A Prince, hm?” Benny says with a smile. “What’s his name?”

Maybe it’s something about Benny’s smile. Maybe it’s because he’s now thinking about him. Whatever the case, Cas can’t stop the stupid, silly grin that grows on his lips.

“Dean,” he says. “And, ah, Benny, he’s…”

“Handsome?”

“More than that, he’s beautiful,” Cas agrees. “He’s got these eyes… and these freckles… and, oh, his smile…”

There’s a strange twist to Benny’s smile now that Cas can’t figure out. Sadness, maybe? He sighs.

“But he’s a prince. And I don’t… His father’s trying to get him married. I don’t really…”

“I could make you a prince,” Benny suggests. Cas frowns at him.

“How would that help?”

“It’d give you the opportunity to get close to him.”

“I don’t even know if he likes men!” Cas protests. “And I made a complete fool of myself last time…”

“Firstly,” Benny says sternly. “He likes men. Trust me. Secondly, you said you only met him for a couple hours, right? Show up as a prince and no one has to know it’s you. Go by a different name, even. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Cas gives the djinni a strange look. “How do you know he likes men?”

There’s the barest hesitation before Benny answers. “I’m djinni. I know things.”

Cas frowns at him for a moment longer before continuing. “That could work, I guess. I could go by Castiel.”

“I figured Cas had to be short for something,” Benny says, cracking his knuckles again. “You’ve got to actually wish for it for me to do this.”

Cas pauses, thinking it through. It might not work. Benny could be wrong about Prince Dean liking men. Pretending to be a prince could blow up in his face. And even if Benny’s right and the prince thing works, Prince Dean still might get married to some woman, and Cas would just… be forgotten.

But on the other hand. It might work.

“Okay. Benny, I wish for you to make me into a prince.”

Benny looks positively thrilled. “All right! First, that fez and vest combo is much too third century,” he says, talking so fast Cas isn’t sure he’s breathing. He pulls at Cas’s clothes as he speaks. “These patches, what are we trying to say here? Beggar? No! Let’s work with me here.”

A tug, a spin, and a snap of fingers, and then Benny steps back to critique his work.  Cas looks down at himself in wonder. He’s covered head to toe with pure white silk with accents of gold. It’s gorgeous, really. He finds himself standing up straighter. Benny, meanwhile, is tapping at his chin with a frown.

“Still needs something. What does it say to me? It says… mode of transportation! Excuse me, little man! Over here!”

Gabe’s eyes fly wide, and he turns tail to run away, but with a snap of his fingers, Benny pulls Gabe back. Gabe lands solidly on the carpet, looking somewhere between angry and terrified. There’s another snap of the djinni’s fingers and suddenly, instead of a small little monkey sitting in the middle of the magic carpet, there’s a camel looking wide-eyed and supremely annoyed.

“Mm, not quite,” Benny says, more to himself than anything. Cas moves to stand next to Benny for a better view. Gabe has got to be about as pissed as they come.

Another snap of the fingers and the camel turns into a frilly white horse, mane and tail all curled up and froffy. Cas holds back a laugh.

“Still not enough.”

There’s another snap, and the horse turns into a duck who quacks irritably.

 _Snap._ The duck turns into an ostrich.

 _Snap._ A turtle.

 _Snap._ Some weird metal contraption with wheels.

 _Snap._ Monkey.

Gabe actually looks relieved to be a monkey again, but that relief disappears the moment Benny starts talking again, a look of excitement on his face.

“Yes! _In elephantem transforma_!” He snaps one final time, and Gabe turns into an elephant. Gabe goes cross-eyed trying to look at himself and lets out a shocked trumpet. The carpet struggles under one of Gabe’s feet, and Gabe steps back quickly, letting her rocket away. Cas approaches Gabe, a hand outstretched to pet his trunk.

“Wow, Gabe. You look good.”

Gabe glares at him.

Benny maybe goes a little too far with the whole “prince” thing in Cas’s opinion, but when he asked Benny about it the djinni just brushed it off with the explanation that he’d been cooped up for too long and needed to have a little fun. Which would explain why Benny, now appearing as some grandiose and excited grand marshal, is leading Gabe down the street to the palace with an incredible amount of pomp and circumstance. People are peeking out of windows and doors, gathering outside to watch, and, dammit, Benny’s encouraging it. Cas resists the urge to sink down in the carriage where he’s seated so no one can see him. That wouldn’t be very princely.

“Make way for Prince Castiel! Say, hey, it’s Prince Castiel!” Benny calls, and seriously, Cas may kill him. Even Gabe seems to be getting into the fanfare, a little bounce to his step. For now, though, Cas stares directly forward, eyes fixed on the palace that slowly draws closer.

Finally, _finally_ , the grand doors of the palace are directly in front of them. The Sultan himself is standing in the doorway along with a tall lady with striking red hair. There’s a black parrot perched on her shoulder and a large gold staff in her hand. Benny brings Gabe to a stop, and Cas carefully climbs out the carriage and onto where the magic carpet waits for him. She brings Cas to the floor gently, and Cas immediately falls into a low bow.

“Your Majesty,” he says, mentally shoving down the freakout from being so close to the Sultan. When Cas stands back up, though, the Sultan is smiling at him.

“Quite the grand entrance,” he says as he leads them all through the doorway and into the palace. “Prince Castiel, yes?”

Cas nods numbly.

“Delighted to meet you. This is my Grand Vizier, Abaddon,” he says, indicating the woman. “She’s delighted too.”

“Ecstatic,” Abaddon murmurs, looking down her nose at him. Cas fights a wince and takes a small step away from her. The Sultan, meanwhile, seems to be thoroughly intrigued by the carpet.

“Remarkable,” he says, running a hand across her. “We used to have a magic carpet that looked quite similar to yours, but she disappeared many years ago. I don’t suppose I might…” He looks at Cas curiously, and Cas grins.

“Why certainly, your Majesty.”

The Sultan scrambles onto the carpet a little eagerly, but the Vizier takes a few quick steps toward them and pins the carpet down with her staff. There’s a red glint in the sunlight, and Cas realizes the head of the staff is shaped like a viper, eyes set with rubies. He fights a shiver.

“Sire, I must advise against this--” she starts, but the Sultan waves a hand at her dismissively.

“Oh, calm down, Abaddon,” he says, pushing at her staff with a foot. “Learn to have a little fun.” He manages to free the carpet, and they zoom high into the sky in a flash, the Sultan letting out a loud whoop. The Vizier turns her glare back on Cas.

“Just where did you say you were from?”

“Oh. Much farther than you’ve traveled, I’m sure,” Cas says as smoothly and confidently as possible. The Vizier raises an eyebrow. Even the parrot on her shoulder looks suspicious. Or maybe that’s just Cas’s over-active imagination.

“Try me.”

The Sultan saves Cas from having to respond by flying past them, close enough that the parrot loses his balance on the Vizier’s shoulder and falls to the floor with an undignified squawk. The Vizier scowls, keeping her eyes fixed on the Sultan now. Cas takes the opportunity to back away from her scrutiny, closer to Gabe and… okay, Benny’s disappeared, that’s weird.

With a final loopty-loop (the carpet is showing off, and Cas can’t find it in him to be annoyed), the Sultan and the magic carpet come to a landing. The Sultan fumbles off, face flushed, and a huge grin from ear to ear.

“Lovely carpet, Prince Castiel,” he says, petting her again. “Good to know I haven’t lost my knack for riding one, too. Now, what can I do for you?”

Cas figured out his plan of attack on the way here. He’s got a whole story, with a little help from Gabe and Benny, and he’s ready for this. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I’ve heard that you are looking for a wife for your eldest.”

The Sultan looks mildly impressed. “I am. Getting quite desperate, in fact. Abaddon and I were just speaking about the possibility of her having to marry my son.”

Cas blinks at the Vizier in surprise as her parrot flaps it’s way back up to her shoulder, looking irritated. “Ah. Well, that may not be necessary,” he says slowly as the Vizier--and the parrot’s glares seem to intensify. “You see, I have a sister back home who may actually be a good match for him.”

“Is that so? How old is she?”

“A couple years younger than myself, Sire.”

“And I take it she’s still at home?” the Sultan says, looking thoughtful. Cas nods.

“Yes. I had hoped to speak with you and see if we could work things out before bringing her on such a long journey.”

“Oh, yes, of course, that makes sense,” the Sultan says with a nod. “And from what I can tell, I would love to have closer relations with you and your family. Any thoughts on when to have the wedding?”

“Uh--”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Cas jumps slightly at the burst of indignation. A few feet away, just out of a hallway, stands none other than Prince Dean himself. It takes Cas a moment to realize the colorful yell came from the prince and that he looks as pissed as an angry rhino.

“Look at all of you, standing around, deciding my future!” the prince cries. “Were you not even going to ask me what I thought, Dad? And, and you, Prince _Castiel_.” He spits Cas’s name like a curse. “A complete stranger, you’ve never even met me before, and you’re willing to just sell your sister off like a prize cow! I could be horrible, and you wouldn’t even know or care!”

“Prince Dean, I--” Cas tries desperately, but the prince’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How dare you,” he seethes. “How dare all of you.”

He turns on his heel and storms back down the hallway. The Sultan sighs.

“I apologize for my son, Prince Castiel. Just give him some time to cool down. He’ll come around. Meanwhile, let’s talk a walk, and you can tell me more about yourself,” he says, taking Cas by the elbow and leading him back out the door. “Your parents--do I know them?”

“Dean, Allah, calm down,” Sam says, looking a little alarmed as his brother paces their chambers angrily.

“You weren’t there! You didn’t hear them talking about me and this poor girl like we’re not actually people!”

Sam sighs. “I’m sure you just heard things out of context.”

“I fucking didn’t, Sam,” Dean hisses viciously. “I know what I heard.”

Sam frowns at him. “I’m not the enemy here, Dean.”

Dean deflates a little. “I know. I just hate this whole thing. And this Prince _Castiel_ just waltzes in… Did you see he was riding a fucking elephant through the bazaar? How self-righteous can you get?”

Sam looks like he’s trying not to smile. “What would you have done?”

“Well, considering I don’t have an elephant, I wouldn’t have done that,” Dean drawls. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Okay, whatever. I just think you’re blowing all of this a little out of proportion.”

Dean glares. “What, like you were yesterday with Abaddon’s bird?”

That gets Sam’s attention. He sits up and points at Dean emphatically. “Hey, that parrot was giving me the evil eye, okay?”

“It’s a parrot.”

“It’s a demon, I swear to Allah!”

“Yeah, that’s not blowing things out of proportion at all,” Dean grumbles, shaking his head. Sam glares at him a moment longer before flopping back down and sticking his nose it a book. Dean sighs heavily and wanders out to the balcony.

The stars are incredible tonight. The sky's a deep purplish color, and the moon is full. For the first time in his life, Dean thinks he’s starting to understand why Sam hates the palace so much. He feels restless and cooped up. Not to mention there’s still that pit of guilt in his gut from getting that man killed the other day. When he’s Sultan, Abaddon will be the first thing to go.

“Prince Dean?”

Dean whirls to see none other than Prince Castiel himself standing over at the other end of the balcony. Dean glances inside to see Sam’s still buried in his book.

“How did you--” He shakes his head. “No. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see you.” Dean turns his back on the prince, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“No, no, please,” Castiel says quickly. Dean turns to see the prince has hurried closer and backs away, a little alarmed. The prince slows to a stop, but he’s got this pleading look on his face, and for some reason it grabs Dean’s attention.

“Dean? You okay out there?”

Dean looks back to where Sam is. The book’s down, and he’s getting up slowly, looking worried.

“Give me a chance,” Castiel says quietly. Dean’s gaze flicks between Castiel and Sam, heart thudding dully in his chest. The light from inside catches Castiel’s eyes, and Dean’s heart skips a beat. That color is eerily family….

“I’m fine, Sam,” he calls, not taking his eyes off the man in front of him. The prince looks relieved.

“Do I know you?” Dean asks slowly, taking a step closer. Castiel looks just like the man from the bazaar; those intense blue eyes, that jaw, that nose.

“Uh. No. No,” he says with a vigorous shake of his head. Dean frowns at him.

“You remind me of someone I met in the bazaar.”

“The bazaar?” Castiel echoes. “I have servants that go to the bazaar for me. Not to mention I only arrived in Agrabah today and have never before been here. So it couldn’t have been me you met.”

Dean knows he’s right. The man he met was killed. Beheaded. It’s not possible.

“No,” he says quietly, the guilt welling up again in his stomach. “I guess not.”

“Uh, Prince Dean?” Castiel says quickly, and Dean frowns at him again. He looks distracted and nervous as hell.

“You can just call me Dean, you know,” he says. “We’re both princes so it’s not like the title matters much here.”

“Of--of course,” Castiel stutters. Dean sighs and leans against the balcony railing.

“So, what? You here to tell me all about your sister and how wonderful a wife she’d be?”

Castiel actually looks confused for a moment before his eyes widen and he scratches absently at his ear. “Actually, I was just hoping we could… be friends?”

Dean scoffs. “Yeah. Right. You’re welcome to try, but first impressions go a long way, you know.”

“I apologize for that, I really do,” Castiel says--and he actually looks sincere. A good start, anyway. “I only meant to get into your father’s good graces. I never meant--”

“For me to hear?” Dean interrupts. “Because the way I see it--”

“I know, I know it looks bad,” Castiel says, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Can we… Can we maybe start over on a blank slate?”

Dean frowns at him, looking him over. There’s something about this asshole Prince, despite the asshole-ish-ness, and he has no idea what it is. Maybe it’s just because he looks so much like that man from the bazaar.

“Okay. Shoot.”

Castiel smiles. “Prince--I mean. Dean. You--... you’re very… beautiful.”

Dean stares. “Excuse me?”

“I mean.” Castiel looks mortified. “That--that’s not what I mean. You’re very… magnificent!”

“Magnificent?” Dean’s suddenly looking at the prince in a whole new light. “Do you even have a sister? Or are you…?”

Castiel bats at something--a bug?--by his ear and then buries his face in his hands. “I had a sister. Once.”

Dean decides not to fall into that trap. “Right. Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at here, or who you really are because you’re obviously hiding something, but you can… go jump off a balcony, for all I care, all right?”

He’s done. He’s done, he’s done, he’s done. He just doesn’t have the energy for this, especially not right now and especially not with this Prince Castiel guy. Dean turns to storm back inside, ready to just give up on the day and go to bed.

“You’re right.”

Dean stops. “What?” he asks, turning back around. Castiel’s backed up against the balcony railing, shoulders slumped, looking stupidly forlorn.

“You’re right,” he repeats. “You don’t deserve to be toyed with like this, and I’m sorry.”

Dean stares at him suspiciously. Castiel shrugs.

“I’ll go now.”

He takes a step up, onto the balcony railing, and jumps.

“No!” Dean cries, scrambling forward. He didn’t mean it literally, Allah! But before Dean can really even panic properly, Castiel’s head pokes back up into view. Dean feels his jaw drop.

“How are you doing that?”

Castiel _floats_ upward and over the railing again, stepping off a magic carpet. The carpet flies to Dean, circling around him in a way that seems almost happy. She stops right in front of him, and Dean stares at it.

“It’s… she’s beautiful,” he murmurs, running his hands across her. She seems to preen at his compliment. Something tugs at Dean in the back of his memory, and he takes a closer look at the weavings.

“Your father said you used to have a carpet like this one,” Castiel says, sounding more than a little pleased.

There. Right there in the back left corner. A few picked at threads, placed very specifically by small hands. S.W. and D.W.

“Not just one _like_ this,” Dean says, barely able to believe his eyes. “This is her. Her name’s the Impala.”

“What?”

Dean points out the initials to Castiel. “Those are mine and my brother’s initials. She disappeared years ago, just before my mom died. We never knew what happened, but my dad always thought the Impala had been stolen by whoever killed my mom. Though they were never able to prove she’d actually been killed….” Dean looks up suspiciously at Castiel, who’s staring at him with his eyebrows furrowed. Castiel shakes his head, looking a little numb.

“I… I bought this from a merchant a… a few years ago.”

“Any idea what the merchant’s name was?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Dean swallows thickly, turning his attention back to the carpet. She’s now rubbing up against his legs, much like a very pleased cat. Yeah, definitely the Impala.

“You don’t, uh. Wanna go for a ride, do you?” Castiel asks cautiously. “We could get out of here. See the world. It’s a beautiful night.”

Dean looks up at him again, a lump forming in his throat. “I was just a kid when she disappeared,” he says quietly, petting the carpet absently. “Ridden her a couple times but never went too high or left the palace grounds. I--I don’t…”

“Do you trust me?”

Dean looks up with a start. “What?”

Castiel’s climbing back onto the carpet--who’s looking expectant--and he holds out a hand to Dean, a smile on his lips.

“Do you trust me?”

Take off the turban and the fancy clothes, and he’d be a perfect replica of the man from the bazaar.

Slowly, Dean takes Castiel’s hand. He has no idea how it’s possible, but there’s no way the man Abaddon’s supposed to have killed isn’t the same man before him. No two people are that similar.

“Yes…”

Castiel helps him onto the carpet, and she shoots off before Dean’s really settled in. He feels his stomach get left behind on the balcony, and slams his eyes shut, fingers curling into the fabric as he holds on for dear life. After a few moments, he feels warm hands gently hold onto his arms.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Castiel whispers, a whole lot closer to Dean’s ear than he was anticipating. Dean bites back a whimper as the Impala takes a turn rather fast. Slowly, though, he manages to pry his eyes open.

 

Agrabah is far below them, looking more like a bunch of toys rather than the city where Dean’s spent his entire life. He glances behind them to see the palace shrinking fast. Castiel is beside him, watching him with an expectant smile.

“You all right?” he asks. Dean nods, maybe a little frantically. Castiel’s smile widens.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Um.” Dean glances around, trying to unlock his fingers from their grip on the Impala as he does, and thinks.

“I… I had a friend once. A long time ago,” he says slowly as he moves his hands to his lap. The Impala’s slowed her pace a little, letting them just glide gracefully through the cool air.

“He’d traveled a lot, and he told me about all the places he’d been. All the wonders he’d seen. Maybe… maybe we could see those?”

“All right,” Castiel agrees. “Any particular place you’d like to start?”

Dean thinks for a moment. “There were these… structures. In Egypt. He called them the Great Pyramids.”

The Impala’s back in motion before Castiel can even reply. Dean cries out involuntarily and grabs for the first thing he lays his hands on which, of course because this is just his luck, happens to be Castiel. The prince smiles at him, a warm, familiar smile, and just carefully takes Dean’s hands off where they’re digging into his shoulders, holding them between his own hands. And Dean lets him.

They see the Great Pyramids--and Benny had been right. They truly are great. They also see the beautiful Sphinx statue close by. There’s a man actively working on carving out the face of it, and he almost falls off as Dean, Cas, and the Impala whiz by. They fly on to Greece and see the beautiful temples for the gods Benny had told him they worship there. They fly over a great body of water--there’s a time where all they can see is water in every direction--and see a beautiful canyon, so deep and long, it goes on for miles. They cross another ocean eventually, and come across a group of huge, tall stones, set in a circle. Benny had said no one knew how or who arranged them like that. After a while, Dean runs out of places he can remember Benny telling him about, and they let the Impala show them wonder after wonder. All the while, Dean doesn’t pull his hands away from Castiel’s. It’s grounding, really. And if Castiel really is who Dean thinks he is…. Well, then. Dean doesn’t mind.

They finally come to a stop in China. The Impala lets them off on the roof of a tall building before collapsing in a heap. She looks exhausted, and Dean almost feels bad, except that she also looks immensely pleased with herself.

In the distance there are beautiful fireworks going off, lighting up the sky with brilliant colors. Castiel hands him an apple that he’d picked from a tree at some point during the journey before settling down to sit next to him. Dean bites into the apple, keeping his eyes fixed on Castiel. He looks relaxed, enjoying his own apple and the fireworks display before them. Dean frowns at his apple, rolling it casually between his hands.

“It’s a shame Gabe had to miss this,” he says as nonchalantly as possible.

Castiel shrugs as he takes another bite of his apple. “Nah. He hates fireworks. Doesn’t really like flying either.” His eyes widen suddenly as he looks at Dean. “That is….”

Dean hits him hard on the shoulder. “You _are_ the man from the bazaar! Why did you lie to me?”

Castiel winces at the punch. “Dean, I--I’m sorry….”

“Did you think I was stupid?”

“No!”

“That I wouldn’t figure it out?” Dean’s not sure if he’s actually angry with him. He probably should be, but most of him is just relieved the man’s not dead.

“No! I mean, I hoped you wouldn’t,” Castiel says quickly. “Ah, no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Who are you?” Dean demands. “Tell me the truth!”

“The truth?” Castiel says, looking cowed. “Uh. The truth. The truth is… I sometimes dress as a commoner to… to escape the pressures of palace life.”

“What were you doing in Agrabah?” Dean asks.

“I… I was getting a feel for your city before introducing myself to you,” Castiel says slowly. “I didn’t realize you were the prince yet, I swear.”

“Not until I ordered the guards to let you go,” Dean says with a nod. “How did you get out of there? Abaddon told me she’d had you beheaded.”

Castiel actually looks thrown off by that. “The Grand Vizier? I didn’t even meet her until today. I--I got out….” He pauses, chewing on his bottom lip. “My… one of my servants broke me out.”

Dean frowns at him, trying to decide if he believes him. It makes sense. Sort of. Except Abaddon lying about beheading him. But that’s a question for Abaddon, not for Castiel.

“Why didn’t you just tell me in the first place?” he asks instead. Castiel gives an awkward little shrug.

“Well, you know. Royalty going out into the city in disguise? It sounds a little strange, don’t you think?”

Dean raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, I was doing the same thing when we met. It’s not that strange.”

Dean’s a little surprised to see the light’s still on when Castiel and the Impala drop him back off on the balcony. Maybe Sam’s gotten sucked into his book, or he fell asleep in the middle of reading. Hopefully he hasn’t figured out Dean’s missing. Either way, it’s not enough to quelch the bubbles of happiness in Dean’s chest. He turns back to Castiel, who’s floating just below eye level on the other side of the railing.

“Good night, Castiel.”

Castiel smiles. “Good night, Dean.”

Suddenly, Castiel surges up and forward, and before Dean even recognizes what’s happening, Castiel’s lips are on his. Dean gets the sneaking suspicion that wasn’t Castiel’s doing, but the Impala’s, but he can’t dwell on that long because Castiel is kissing him-- _finally_ \--and those bubbles in his chest are bursting.

 

Tonight was a good night, Dean decides.

Dean’s the one who pulls back eventually, feeling heat rise up the back of his neck. Please, Allah, let Sam be asleep. Castiel’s smile probably matches Dean’s own, and Dean can’t stay here or he’ll never go back inside. With one final glance over his shoulder, Dean hurries back inside, trying hard to smother his grin.

Sam looks up from his book--he’s still reading, of course he is--and raises his eyebrows.

“You been out there this entire time?”

Dean nods, dragging a hand down his face in a desperate attempt to get rid of the grin. It doesn’t work.

“What’s got you all excited?” Sam asks, sitting up. Dean doesn’t look at him and turns to get into his sleep clothes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. What happened?”

Dean can’t hold it in any longer, so sue him. “Well, for one, I found the Impala.”

Sam looks stunned. “What?”

Dean nods. “Castiel has her. Apparently bought her from some merchant a couple years ago, but it’s definitely her. She’s got our initials where we picked at the threads back when we were kids.”

“How did…” Sam shakes his head and starts over. “Castiel, huh? You said his name kinda… well, differently than earlier, that’s for sure.”

Dean feels his entire face heat up. “So?”

Sam’s face lights up, and sometimes Dean really hates how easily they can read each other. “Really?” he says, standing up and hurrying to Dean. “Okay, wait, don’t tell me any details yet, Charlie needs to be here for this.” He starts for the door before looking over his shoulder with way too big of a grin.

“Is it wrong I find it extremely funny that you’ve had all these women thrown at you lately, and it ends up being a guy you _hated_ at first that you actually fall for?”

“Shut up,” Dean mumbles. “And he’s not… he’s not just any guy, Sam.” The embarrassment can’t stick around for long, not tonight. Sam frowns at him, and Dean grins.

“He’s the guy from the bazaar the other day. He’d dressed up just like us, and his servant broke him out of the dungeon. I don’t know why Abaddon said she’d had him killed, but she didn’t. Maybe she was just trying to cover her ass. But Castiel’s the guy from the bazaar, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes are wide. “I said no details until we get Charlie,” he says, but his voice is a little strained.

Dean stops trying to fight his grin and waves a hand at him. “Go get her then. I got… well, I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

Cas feels like he’s floating.

Which, okay, he is. But still.

The carpet--the Impala, apparently, which has got Cas wondering about Benny a bit--brings Cas to where Gabe and Benny have set up camp. The elephant and the djinni actually seem to be deep in conversation, but they both look up when Cas hops off the Impala with an extra spring to his step. Benny grins at him.

“I take it it went well?”

Cas laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, it did. And you were right.”

“Obviously,” Benny says with a nod. “What was I right about?”

“Dean liking men.”

“Oh, that,” Benny says. “Of course I was.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cas replies, pulling off his shoes. “Still don’t understand how you knew that.” He watches Benny’s reaction carefully, but Benny just scoffs.

“I told you. I’m djinni.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Look, I’m gonna hit the hay. Dean had a friend who traveled a lot, apparently, so we had the carpet take us to a lot of the places his friend had told him about, and I’m beat.”

Something strange passes over Benny’s face. Which, okay, that’s what Cas was looking for, but not in reaction to _that_.

“Where did you go?” Benny asks quietly.

“Uh. Well, we started with Egypt. They’ve got these pyramids… they’re huge! You ever seen them?”

Benny nods, but he seems distracted. Cas frowns. He’s missing something, that much is obvious. But his thoughts are interrupted by a large yawn, and he decides he can figure out what’s going on in the morning. Now? He’s getting some much needed sleep.

Cas wakes with a start as someone yanks him up to his feet, arms pinned behind his back and a rag roughly shoved in his mouth. It takes him a couple moments to get a handle on the situation, heart thudding painfully in his chest. Gabe’s got a half dozen spears on him, his front legs tucked underneath him carefully--he’s got the lamp, Cas realizes with relief. There are another half dozen guards on Cas, Naomi included, and the Grand Vizier is sauntering up to them.

“Prince Castiel,” she spits. Cas struggles against the guards restraining him. One of them kicks at the back of his knees, and Cas hits the ground hard. Gabe trumpets, struggling to get to Cas through the barrier of men and spears. The Grand Vizier turns her staff toward the elephant, the ruby eyes of the serpent head glowing.

“If I can control the Sultan,” she growls, just loud enough that Cas can hear, “I can tame a simple creature like you.”

Cas stares in horror as Gabe’s eyes go out of focus, and he sits back down calmly. The Grand Vizier then turns her attention back on Cas, looking bored and unimpressed.

“I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome, Prince Castiel.” She looks to Naomi. “Make sure he’s never found.”

Shackles are placed around Cas’s feet and hands. Cas twists to look back at it, something twisting painfully in his chest when he sees the weight at the end of the chains. Naomi’s smiling at him, all too close. There’s a thud, like two watermelons being hit together, then everything’s black.

Cas wakes up wet, cold, and lungs on fire. He’s already coughing, spitting water out of his mouth, trying to remember how to breathe normally. When he’s finally able to take in a shuddering breath, he collapses on his back and tries to see past the pounding headache.

“You’re lucky to have Gabriel, you know that?”

Cas looks up to see Benny kneeling beside him, looking relieved. Cas frowns at him.

“What do you mean?”

Benny nods at something past Cas--Gabe. Who looks almost amusingly like a worried mother.

“Used his second wish to save you.”

Gabe looks a little embarrassed at that, but it quickly turns to irritation. He gives a single, short trumpet before stomping off, back in the direction of camp.

“What happened?” Benny asks after a moment. “Gabe was a little too hysterical to really explain--”

“The Grand Vizier,” Cas responds, teeth gritted. Benny blinks.

“Abaddon?”

Cas nods. “Sounded like she’s been controlling the Sultan. She’s got this staff…. I think she was trying to get rid of me so she can marry Dean.”

Benny nods slowly, looking distant. “Makes sense.”

Cas scrambles to his feet and stuffs the lamp in his turban. “I gotta warn Dean. C’mon.”

Benny looks alarmed for a moment, but Cas doesn’t stay to argue. He starts for the palace, and after a moment sees the familiar blue light of Benny returning to his lamp.

Sam, Dean, and Charlie are all still up. It reminds Dean of when they were kids, except usually it was Charlie’s mom telling the stories late into the night.

Benny had also told Sam all about the places he’d been, and Sam is exceedingly jealous Dean got to see them all. Granted, he’s asking questions about things Dean wasn’t exactly paying attention to, but Dean’s starting to wonder if he can borrow the Impala ( _borrow_ \--that just seems wrong) from Cas and take Sam someday. And Charlie too. Judging by the look of wonder on her face, she’d enjoy it as well. He’s got to find a reason to keep Cas around anyway….

“Dean.”

All three of them jump at the sound of the Sultan’s voice, Charlie dropping from her seat on the bed and immediately going to her knees, but Dean recovers quickly. He scrambles forward excitedly.

“Dad, you’ll never guess what I just--”

“I have chosen a bride for you,” Dad interrupts. Dean stops dead in his tracks.

“What?”

There’s something off about the look on Dad’s face, Dean realizes belatedly. He’s standing too tall and stiff, and his gaze doesn’t quite meet Dean’s.

“You will wed Abaddon.”

As if waiting for the cue--which, honestly, she probably was--Abaddon steps out from behind the door, leering at Dean. Crowley’s on her shoulder as usual, looking pleased. Dean stares at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Dad.

“Okay, this isn’t funny. I don’t know what’s wrong with you--”

“I do!”

Dean turns to see Castiel in the doorway to the balcony. He’s completely drenched and looks determined as hell. Dean tries to quash the stupid happy leap his heart does at the sight of him.

There’s a squawk from Crowley, and Abaddon looks a little more shocked than she really should be to see Castiel. “How--”

Castiel’s at Dean’s side in an instant, Sam hurrying to join the fray. Charlie’s still on her knees, but her head’s up, wide eyes flicking between each individual party quickly.

“She tried to have me killed,” Castiel says, glaring at Abaddon. She scoffs.

“Ridiculous nonsense, Your Highness,” she purrs. “He is obviously lying.”

Before Dean’s even sure what’s happening, Castiel’s leapt forward and snatched Abaddon’s staff out of her hands. With a great swing, Castiel brings the staff’s head down and smashes it on the floor, gold shards scattering across the stone. The neutral expression on John’s face disappears, and he blinks rapidly. Castiel presents the broken staff to the Sultan.

“Your Highness, Abaddon’s been controlling you with this!”

But Abaddon smiles.

“You act as if that’s my sole source of power, _Castiel_.”

Castiel turns to frown at her, mouth opening to respond. Abaddon gives a small flick of her wrist. There’s a loud crack, and Dean watches as his father crumples to the ground.

“Dad!”

Sam’s already there on his knees beside the body. There’s a gasp and a cry from Charlie. Abaddon laughs, loud and cruel, before disappearing into thin air. Castiel looks horrified, the staff dropping to the floor with a clatter. But it all feels like a dream. Because there’s no way John Winchester can be dead. It’s just not possible.

Dean continues to move through the next couple days as if in a dream. Along with funeral preparations, there are also coronation preparations. The entire city feels like it’s been thrown into a small chaos, losing a Sultan and a Grand Vizier in the same day. Sam has the presence of mind to order the Royal Guard to search high and low for Abaddon--after firing Naomi, of course. Neither brother has much hope it’ll work, but at least it’s something. Every single decision is brought to Dean for approval, and he really has no idea how to handle it. Sam seems a little more put together, thank Allah, and helps out as much as he can. And Dean has barely even seen Castiel since that night. One of the few times he did see him, Dean made Castiel promise not to leave at least until after the funeral. The prince agreed easily enough, but part of Dean still worries.

Sam brings up the topic of getting Dean married after just a couple days, and he brings Charlie with him to back him up. Dean scowls at them both.

“Really?” he says. “Right now? Aren’t there more important--”

“It’ll look better if you’re married as soon as possible after the coronation, Dean,” Charlie says quickly. “People have to know that this is still important to you. Besides, it’ll give Agrabah a reason to celebrate.”

“This was never important to me,” Dean retorts.

“The people don’t need to know that,” Sam says quietly. “And there are plenty of princesses you haven’t yet rejected--” (Dean shoots him a glare) “--that would be good candidates.”

Dean turns to Charlie suddenly, who takes a step back in shock at his intensity.

“What if I married you?”

“ _What_?” Charlie and Sam chorus.

“We wouldn’t have to _do_ anything,” Dean says quickly. “You’re like my sister, that would be weird. But it would make people back off--”

“I’m a servant, Dean,” Charlie says stiffly.

“I don’t care,” Dean snaps. “You’d make a great queen.”

Charlie looks like she’s struggling with that comment. “You’re damn right I would,” she says. “But no one would accept it.”

“I’d make them accept it.”

“That’s a little tyrannical, don’t you think?” Charlie says, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“You’d need to produce an heir,” Sam says quietly. Charlie’s face twists into disgust.

“No fucking way. For so many reasons--”

“ _You_ produce an heir,” Dean retorts, glaring at Sam. Sam sighs heavily and looks like he’s trying hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“What about Castiel?” he asks gently. Dean stops short, a lump forming in his throat. He grinds his teeth for a moment before running a hand down his face, the tension in his body slowly seeping away.

“I can’t… I don’t know. I mean, if I married you, Charlie, it’s not like… well, you wouldn’t really be offended, would you.” It’s not a question, but Charlie answers anyway.

“What, if you were fucking someone else? No, I wouldn’t, but I’m not really sold on the idea of being your beard, Dean.”

Dean looks up at her, and he feels the pleading etched into his face. He hates it.

“You’d be queen, Charlie. You could… you could do whatever you wanted. You could make a difference, like you’re always talking about. People would love you. And, and, I mean, obviously if--if Castiel and I are… you know. You could too. With whoever. Obviously.”

The look of irritation and disgust on Charlie’s face slips away, and she sighs. “Dean… We can’t.”

There’s a few moments of silence as Charlie and Dean stare at each other, before Dean groans and walks a few steps away. Sam clears his throat.

“I’ll have letters sent out to all the princesses you haven’t yet… met,” he says, gently but firmly. “Invite them to the palace. In the meantime, you also need to be thinking about who you’re going to appoint as the new Grand Vizier. I might go with--”

“Castiel,” Dean says suddenly, turning back to them both. Sam frowns.

“Isn’t he the Prince elsewhere? You can’t ask him to--”

“Maybe he’s not the eldest,” Dean interrupts, refusing to let Sam quash the glimmer of hope. “I’ll--I’ll talk to him. Offer him the job.”

“And you’ll just hope you find a princess who’s okay with you sleeping with someone else all the time?” Sam asks. Dean glares at him.

“I’ll figure something out.”

Sam purses his lips, but he seems to get that right now’s not the best time to argue. He shares a glance with Charlie before nodding.

“Okay. But you should talk to him sooner rather than later. Just in case he can’t.”

It’s decided Dean’s coronation will be the day after the funeral. Give everyone a day to mourn, then a day of celebration. Or something. Dean doesn’t sleep the night before, and despite Sam trying to convince Dean to at least lay down, Dean’s pretty sure Sam doesn’t sleep either.

Dean finds Castiel the morning before the funeral and insists he sit up at the front with him and Sam. Castiel was there when it happened after all. Castiel looks supremely guilty when Dean mentions that, and Dean can’t help the glare he gives.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says angrily. “Neither me or Sam blame you, so don’t you go blaming yourself. It was Abaddon, and Abaddon alone.”

Castiel doesn’t look convinced, but he shakes his head and sits next to Dean all the same.

Dean hates every second of the next hour or so. He vaguely remembers going through the same horrible ceremony back when his mother died, but he’d been so young he hadn’t been able to really process it. Not that he’s doing so well processing right now.

Finally the droning speeches end--Dean had refused to speak himself--and there’s the quiet rustling of people standing and leaving. It takes Dean a while to wrench his gaze away from the nothingness he’d been staring at, and he turns to Castiel.

“Are you the oldest in your family?”

Castiel frowns at Dean. “Why?”

“Are you in line to be crowned when your father dies?” Dean asks. “Because if you’re not, and if you’d like to… I need a Grand Vizier, Castiel. And I… I think you’d be perfect.”

Castiel stares at Dean a little blankly for a while, and Dean tries not to fidget.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he says quickly after the silence goes on for too long. “But if you want to… if you could… I’d really appreciate it. I’d love for you to… to stick around.” Dean’s pretty sure he sounds lame as hell, but dammit, he’s trying. Castiel nods slowly.

“I’ll think about it.”

Dean gives him what he hopes is a smile and not a grimace. “Awesome. Thanks, Cas.”

There’s a moment where it looks like Castiel’s giving him an odd sideways look, but Dean blinks and it’s gone. It must’ve been his imagination.

Cas is… well, to put it mildly, he’s freaking out.

Benny, Gabe, and the carpet are all waiting back at camp when Cas returns, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“How’d it go?” Benny asks gently as Cas approaches.

“Dean wants me to be his Grand Vizier,” Cas says. “I--I don’t know what to do.”  
Benny frowns. “What are you talking about? Say yes!”

“He’s only offering because he thinks I’m royalty!” Cas sighs and flops down to the ground. “And the coronation’s tomorrow, and they’ve rushed in a bunch of suitors, pretty sure one’s showing up later today, and eventually he’ll propose to one of them, and then even if I were royalty there wouldn’t be much point in me sticking around.”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” Benny says quickly, coming to sit next to him. “First of all, you don’t have to do anything for the coronation except smile and applaud like everyone else so I don’t know why you’re worried about that. Second, you don’t know he’ll propose to anyone. Seemed like the two of you had a pretty good time the other night, so I don’t know why--”

“One good night doesn’t mean a damned thing,” Cas bites. Benny’s quiet for a moment, and Cas buries his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick, I’m just… I’m just scared.”

It’s still quiet for a while until Benny shifts beside Cas. “You know, you still have two more wishes.”

Cas frowns at Benny skeptically. “One of those wishes is for you, Benny.”

Benny shrugs. “So you’ve got one wish. Use it wisely. I could put together a city and a family for proof of your royalty, if that’s what you’re worried about. Or I could give half of Agrabah a mild cold so the crowds at the coronation are small. Though that might make Dean think no one likes him….”

“I’m gonna tell him,” Cas announces. “I’m gonna tell him who I really am.”

“You’re serious,” Benny says after a brief pause. Cas nods.

“I can’t keep living a lie like this. I’m gonna tell him the truth and…. Well, maybe he’ll understand.”

Benny’s watching him with a strange expression on his face. “And your wish?”

“You said you can’t make people fall in love, right?” Cas says with sudden inspiration.

“Yes…” Benny says slowly.

“Can you make people not fall in love?”

It takes Benny a moment before he catches on. “Oh, I like you. Clever.”

Cas fights a grin. “Benny, I wish for Dean to not fall in love with any of his suitors.”

“Except for yourself,” Benny adds. Cas huffs, amused.

“Except for myself.”

Benny snaps his fingers with a smile. “Ta da. Wish granted.”

“Thank you, Benny.”

Benny reaches out and ruffles Cas’s hair, pulling him in for a half hug. “No problem, kiddo.”

Cas ducks out of the hug fairly quickly, giving Benny a crooked smile. “So I guess I might as well wish you--”

“Castiel! Castiel!”

Cas startles slightly, turning in the direction of Dean’s voice. Benny nudges him.

“Go ahead. I can wait another day.”

Cas sighs and pushes himself back up to his feet. He has no idea why Dean’s calling for him, but he sounds urgent. Benny gives him another gentle nudge.

“You’ve got this.”

Cas heads past the small water feature filled with bright flamingos toward the sound of Dean’s voice and passes one of the side gates. Sam’s there, along with a blonde woman almost as tall as him. A suitor, Cas recognizes. He pauses to get a closer look at her and overhears a bit of their conversation.

“You’re the younger brother, aren’t you?” the woman is saying. “Sam, right?”

Sam’s cheeks are turning a little pink, and he’s ducking his head bashfully. “Yeah.”

“My name’s Jessica.” She holds out a hand, which Sam takes, giving it a chaste kiss. Her blush matches Sam’s.

Cas forces back a laugh. “Nice move, Benny,” he says under his breath. He turns back the direction he was headed and frowns. Dean’s stopped yelling for him, and Cas isn’t entirely sure where his voice was coming from in the first place. The image of Abaddon reappearing on the palace grounds and going after Dean crosses through Cas’s mind, and he tries hard not to panic.

“Dean?” he calls cautiously. He hurries along the palace walls, calling for Dean intermittently, swallowing down the worry. He clambers over neatly trimmed bushes and into the courtyard, and a wave of relief washes through him.

Dean’s sitting by the fountain, back to Cas, staring dazedly into the water. Slowly, Cas approaches.

“Dean?” he says gently. Dean jumps slightly and looks back at him, a warm smile growing crookedly on his lips.

“Castiel. Hey.”

Cas meets his smiles and comes to sit next to him.

“You all right?”

Dean’s smile twists, and he looks back to the water. “Peachy.”

Cas watches him silently for a few moments, trying to decide what he can say that will help.

“Your new suitor’s here,” he starts, and Dean looks up at him before groaning and dropping his head in his hands. Cas backtracks quickly.

“No, no, wait, I saw Sam greeting her, and it… well, it looked like they were hitting it off pretty nicely.”

Dean’s head lifts slightly, eye peering at Cas over his fingers. “What?”

Cas fights a smile. “Sam and your new suitor. I don’t think she’ll be trying to marry you any time soon.”

Large green eyes blink at him blankly for a couple a seconds, and then Dean’s hands are dropping, and he’s grinning at Cas.

“You’re serious.”

Cas chuckles. “Yeah. I only saw a couple seconds of them interacting, but it looked promising.”

Dean smirks and looks out in the direction Cas had come from. “Well, good. At least one of us can still get his happy ending.”

In one big swoop, Cas’s stomach drops to his toes. Allah, how is he supposed to do this? Dean’s already been going through enough. Cas grits his teeth and swallows heavily.

“Dean, I… Look, I need to tell you something.”

Dean’s smile drifts away, and he shakes his head. “Not right now, Castiel. Unless you’re about to tell me you’ll accept the Vizier job, I don’t… I’m done thinking for the day.”

Cas clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t argue. What is he even supposed to say? Strangely enough, this was actually easier when Benny was buzzing prompts into his ear, even if the djinni had made things go south for a moment there.

Dean looks back up and meets Cas’s eyes firmly, reaching out to grab his hand. Cas glances at their hands, a little startled, before meeting Dean’s gaze quizzically.

“You’re not doing anything for the rest of the day, are you?”

“Uh…” Well, at some point he really should go back to Benny and free him finally, but other than that….

Before Cas can actually reply, though, Dean’s surged forward, and they’re kissing again. Cas’s thoughts stutter for a moment, but then Dean’s got a hand curled in Cas’s hair and thinking doesn’t really matter anymore.

Dean’s kissing like he’s drowning, so different from how it’d been the other night when everything had still been wonderful and exciting, but Cas can’t bring himself to care. He grabs at Dean’s shirt for something to anchor himself. Dean bites down on Cas’s lower lip, pulling on it, and Cas can’t help the groan. Dean swallows the noise hungrily before nosing over to Cas’s ear. Cas gasps as Dean sucks at the skin there, his free arm shaking with the effort to keep both of them upright on the stone fountain.

“Dean!” There’s a hiss, an unfamiliar female voice, and it’s just a few feet away. Dean pulls back suddenly, and Cas practically tumbles over into the water. He rights himself quickly and stares in horror at the woman in front of them.

Cas’s first terrified thought is that it’s Abaddon, but her stance and her clothes are all wrong. Next to him, Dean’s turning a deep shade of red.

“You’re lucky I was the one who found you,” the woman continues. “Out here in the courtyard where anybody could see? What if a suitor had shown up?”

Dean winces. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

The woman shoves her hand out in Cas’s face, still looking annoyed. “My name’s Charlie. Good to finally meet you, Prince Castiel.”

Cas blinks stupidly at the hand inches from his face before glancing over at Dean. Dean gives him something between a smile and a grimace.

“She’s cool. Promise.”

Charlie scoffs and pulls her hand back, setting both hands on her hips. “I’m more than cool. I’m Sam and Dean’s best friend. Have been since we were little. My mom was one of their nursemaids.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Uh. Well. Good to meet you?”

Cas can see Dean smiling, amused, out of the corner of his eye and ignores him. Charlie nods sharply.

“Right. Well, I don’t want to interrupt--you, ah,” she glances down at both of them, and Cas is suddenly grateful for large, baggy pants, “seem busy--but the two of you idiots to get the fuck inside before you get caught.”

Dean stands up and holds out his hand to Cas, but he’s smiling at Charlie as Cas takes his hand and stands as well.

“Thanks.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’re fucking welcome.”

Dean’s holding Cas’s hand easily at his side like it’s no big deal--which Cas is not mentally freaking out about at all--and he leans forward to give Charlie a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, kiddo.”

Finally Charlie cracks a smile. “I know.” She jerks her head toward the palace. “Now get.”

Dean’s head is buzzing, and his ears are burning. Castiel’s hand feels clammy in his own, and Dean’s pretty sure it’s Castiel and not himself, which kinda makes him feel better. But that’s the least of his worries right now. He ducks his head into his and Sam’s chambers to find it blissfully empty--and if Sam’s hit it off with the new suitor, he should be busy for a while. Dean drags Castiel in and then locks the door.

Castiel looks a little nervously around the room, like he’s completely oblivious to why Dean’s brought him here, but Dean decides he doesn’t have the time or the patience to explain it to him. At least not with words. He pulls Castiel closer where their hands are still joined, grabbing him by the hip with his other hand. He smirks at Castiel’s surprised expression before catching his mouth with his own once more.

Dean pulls Castiel along with him until his back hits the door, and even then he pulls Castiel even further. He can’t get the prince close enough, it seems. Dean just wants him everywhere. To wrap himself up in Castiel and never come back out. The idea sends shivers down Dean’s spine, and he groans, grabbing at Castiel’s ass and sliding a leg between Castiel’s. He grinds his leg up into Castiel’s crotch, making Castiel shudder. And suddenly, Castiel pulls back and away, out of Dean’s grasp.

Dean blinks, trying to come back to his senses and figure out what the hell is going on. Castiel’s running a hand down his face and shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again.

“Dean, I-I-I… I need to tell you something.”

Dean shakes his head, willing reality back down to where he can ignore it, and approaches Cas again.

“Not unless you’re about to tell me you’re accepting the Vizier job, I already told you that,” he says quickly, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice. “Then we can have celebratory sex or whatever. Otherwise, it can wait.”

Castiel’s quiet, so Dean takes that as an agreement and grabs him by the hips again, pulling him in close. He feels safer like this, though maybe not any less frantic. Safer with someone to hold onto, to collapse on, and it’s made even better by that someone being Cas.

Dean focuses his attention on sucking a bruise onto Cas’s collarbone, far enough down where it won’t be seen. The broken whimpers from Cas are delicious, and only make Dean hungrier. He kisses his way back up Castiel’s neck to whisper fiercely in his ear.

“I need you.”

Castiel shudders again, and he backs away, but only minimally, and their eyes meet. Dean forces himself to keep the gaze, throwing up all his hunger and desperation so Castiel can see for himself what Dean really needs.

And then Cas is pushing Dean backwards, following with a predatory stalk, a hard glint of determination in those deep blue eyes. Dean can’t help the grin as his nerves fly wild. The back of his legs hit his bed, and he sits heavily. Castiel’s immediately climbing in his lap, mouth on his, and pushing him back so he’s lying down. Cas’s tongue laps past Dean’s lips, and Dean swallows the sensation breathlessly, fighting to pull down his pants.

It takes Cas a moment to catch on to what Dean’s trying to do, but when he does, he stops kissing Dean--Dean tries not to gasp at the loss--and yanks down Dean’s pants just far enough for Dean’s cock to hit the cool air. Cas pulls off his own pants and tosses them aside before climbing back on top of Dean, mouth finding it’s way back to Dean’s. Dean reaches between them, but Cas bats his hand away irritably. Dean finds himself chuckling at the level of grumpiness coming from the other prince. Cas bites down hard on Dean’s bottom lip, and Dean gasps sharply, mid-chuckle. Cas kisses his way down Dean’s neck and chest, muttering quietly,

“Shut up.”

Dean’s about to make a snarky retort when Cas simultaneously sucks on Dean’s nipple and grabs both of their cocks. Dean bucks instinctively, mouth dropping open and eyes slamming shut. Cas laps and nips and sucks on Dean’s nipples, all the while tugging and stroking and twisting their cocks. His hand is rough and calloused, more than Dean would’ve expected, but his technique is experienced and harsh and, well, honestly? Dean kinda likes the coarseness of Castiel’s hands right now. It’s exactly what he needs.

Dean’s hands find their way to Castiel’s hair, fingers weaving through it and holding on for dear life. He feels helpless, out of control. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he feels a little guilty, like he’s not really contributing at all, but it’s too far back for him to really care. Prince Castiel is in charge right now, and that’s all that matters.

Dean’s orgasm almost comes as a surprise because he’s so high strung already. He feels his back arch off the bed as Castiel’s tugs suddenly become even harsher and rougher. Just as Dean’s coming down from the high, vision a little blurry, body twitching, he feels Cas’s come pool on his stomach with his own. Castiel’s stopped playing with Dean’s nipples, head bowed down so all Dean can see is the top of his head, entire body taunt. Dean brushes Castiel’s dark hair down from where Dean had mussed it, just as Castiel relaxes suddenly and collapses on top of him. It’s quiet for a few moments until Castiel looks up at him, trepidation written in his eyes.

“Dean, I--”

“I swear to Allah, if you’re about to tell me you need to tell me something again, I will push you off the bed,” Dean mumbles sleepily.

Castiel continues watching him for another moment before dropping his gaze and rolling off. Dean blinks, a little confused.

“Where’re you going?”

“I’m just getting my pants,” Castiel says quietly.

“Oh.” Dean thinks maybe he should pull his own pants back up--they are kind of uncomfortable halfway down his thighs, after all--but he just can’t be bothered. After a moment he feels Castiel wipe away the come on Dean’s hips with a rag and pull up his pants before laying back down beside him. Dean draws Castiel in close, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s torso, and falls promptly asleep.

Cas plans to tell Dean when they wake up in the morning, no matter any protests Dean makes. They can just have a quiet talk in the chambers before the bustle of the day begins. And maybe Dean will understand. And if not… well. Cas can just go back to life the way it was before. It’ll be fine.

But by the time Cas wakes up, Dean’s already awake and getting dressed by servants. They don’t seem to paying Cas any mind, but that might be because Charlie is one of them. She glances at him briefly as Cas watches, but it’s so subtle he almost misses it.

Cas sits up and slides to the edge of the bed quietly. Dean turns at the rustling and smiles. It actually makes Cas’s chest ache.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greets. Cas tries to meet the smile with his own, and Dean chuckles.

“Not a morning person, huh?”

...Sure. They can go with that for now.

“The coronation starts in an hour,” Dean continues. “Charlie, can you help Prince Castiel get ready?”

Charlie nods and hurries forward to lead Cas away.

Cas doesn’t pay any attention to the action around him for the next hour. All he has to do is raise his arms here, mutely agree to something there. He just keeps thinking about last night, wishing he could be happy about it. Wishing he could believe that it could happen again.

Soon enough, it’s time. Dean and Sam are already waiting, ready, which makes Cas feel like even more of an imposter. They’re waiting for him like he’s family, like he’s just as important. Dean gives him a quick kiss and a smile when Cas arrives, though he’s a little tense with nerves.

“For luck,” he says. Cas can see Sam rolling his eyes. Then they’re walking up the stairs leading up to the top of the front gates.

“Dean, wait--” Cas says quickly, but they’re up the stairs now. Dean adjusts his turban and then steps through the curtain. Sam shares a wince with Cas and steps out after him. Cas sighs, rubs at the bridge of his nose, and follows.

The entire fucking city is out there. Cas steps to his spot beside Sam and tries not to look terrified and miserable through the whole ceremony.

Cas is pretty sure they’re finally-- _finally_ \--getting to the actual crowning when dark clouds suddenly fill the sky. The wind picks up too, and Cas has to grab for his turban before it blows away. There are cries of surprise from the crowd below and a great thundering sound as the entire roof above them is torn off. In the corner of the balcony a tall, redheaded woman appears.

“Seize her!” Dean cries to the two single guards with them. They move to obey, but Abaddon makes a bored gesture, and the two of them disappear. Dean starts toward her himself, Sam close behind him, and Abaddon gestures again. The brothers fly backwards and hit the wall. Cas hurries to their side as they both crumple to the floor.

“Citizens of Agrabah!” Abaddon roars. “Your precious princes are nothing to me. I am your Sultan now. Bow to me!”

Cas can just barely see most of the crowd from where he’s kneeling. They’re whispering in a panic among themselves, a handful here and there already following orders.

“What about Prince Castiel?”

Cas closes his eyes and tries to breathe. That poor, brave soul is going to get himself killed. Over just another commoner.

Abaddon’s laughing. “Ah, yes. About that.” A wave of her hand, and Cas feels himself being pulled up to his feet, the white silk he’s grown comfortable in the past couple days dissolving to his familiar patches.

“This is the true Castiel before you now,” she says. “A common street rat who goes by the name of Cas.” She spits the name before making a dismissive gesture, and Cas flies back, crumpling to the floor next to Dean who’s staring at him. Everything is crumbling, and, Allah, this is why he wanted to talk to Dean, to tell him, because eventually something like this was going to happen. Cas has no idea how Abaddon knows, but that doesn’t matter. Dean has this look of betrayal in his eyes, and it makes Cas feel sick.

“Castiel?” Dean whispers hoarsely. Cas makes some sort of aborted gesture in Dean’s direction, but Dean pulls back with a flinch.

“I tried to tell you…” Cas says around the lump in his throat. The look on Dean’s face doesn’t change.

“I told you to bring me the lamp, boy,” Abaddon says, low and cold. Cas turns to stare at her. There’s a dangerous glint in her eye, and suddenly it clicks. How Abaddon knows who he is, why she told Dean she killed him, how they were able to make it out of the dungeons without being caught.

“You…” he starts, but Abaddon smirks and turns her back on them.

“Now _bow to me_!” she screams, looking furious. With a quick look at the crowd, Cas realizes there are still people refusing to accept it. Abaddon growls and pulls something out of her cloak. Cas’s heart skips a beat when the object catches the light, and now he feels sick for a whole other reason. He should’ve made his last wish when he had the chance, he shouldn’t’ve let anything stand in the way, he should’ve freed Benny when he could--

“Djinni,” she hisses. “I have my first wish. I wish for these fools to recognize my position and power as the Sultan of Agrabah.”

Slowly, Benny emerges from the lamp, looking defeated. Cas can’t breathe.

“Benny?”

The noise is quiet. Disbelieving. Cas looks next to him to see not only Dean, but Sam as well, staring at Benny like they’ve seen a ghost. Benny meets their gazes and winces, turning his attention back to Abaddon.

“Your wish is my command,” he says dully. Cas watches as one by one, every single last person in the crowd below falls to their knees. Abaddon sneers.

“Now then. What should we do with you three?”

There’s a terrified squeak, and Cas turns to see Gabe, back again in monkey form, scurrying up the stairs. Cas gathers him up quickly, holding him close to his chest, just as Abaddon’s eyes land on him.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side long enough. It’s time to send you packing on a one way trip.” She approaches slowly, each step adding emphasis. “So long, _Prince Castiel_.”

Cas only barely has the presence of mind to hold tight onto Gabe before leaving his innards behind. The wind whips past him, cold and biting, as Cas rockets to one of the palace towers. For the briefest moment, Cas thinks that might be it, until there’s the same thundering noise as before as the tower detaches itself from the rest of the building. And then they’re hurtling off to Allah knows where.

Cas has no idea what the white stuff covering everything here is, but it’s wet, and it’s fucking cold, and Cas decides on the spot that he hates it.

Gabe is still clinging to Cas for dear life, and they’ve rolled out of the tower, which sits about a hundred feet away like some old, massive skeleton. The wind is worse than it was in Agrabah, harsher and colder and all around awful. Cas wraps his arms around the two of them and tries to hold back the shivering.

Slowly, all of his limbs shaking against the cold, Cas gets to his feet and starts walking. At the very least he has to get out of the cold. Sure, it gets decently cold at night back in Agrabah, but it’s nothing like this. He’ll freeze to death, and he’s pretty sure he’s not actually exaggerating. He frowns at the tower with trepidation. They’re on a slight slope, and he’s impressed it hasn’t started rolling down towards them. Count his blessings, he supposes.

He peers around them, gazing as far as he can see through the swirling white. All it is is black and white and death. There’s no where to hide, no where to get out of the elements. Gabe suddenly jumps out from Cas’s vest and scrambles up the hill, disappearing into the tower. Cas hurries after him.

“Dammit, Gabe, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He comes around to the bottom of the tower and looks in. Gabe’s sitting on the stone inside, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around his legs, shivering. Cas frowns at him.

“You move even a little in the wrong direction and this whole thing is gonna go rolling off the cliff,” he says. Gabe just looks at him. Cas sighs, carefully stepping inside.

“We should start walking, see if we can find the end of this.”

Gabe scowls, and Cas can’t find the energy to argue with him anymore. It’s cold. He’s tired. He just wants to rest.

After every last citizen is finally on their knees, Abaddon seems satisfied. She sends them all home and then turns to Sam and Dean.

“Come.”

She doesn’t exactly give them a choice. She sweeps down the stairs, and Sam and Dean are dragged… floated… _something_ down behind her.

Dean’s trying to decide what to freak out about first. Castiel, Benny, or Abaddon. Castiel who… well, first off he’s been shot off to who knows where, and second he’s… actually a street rat. So the person Dean met first was the real Castiel. Cas. Whatever his name is. And he’d been lying to Dean the entire fucking time.

Benny who… who’s here. Who seemed to know Castiel somehow too. Had… Had Castiel wished to… to what? Get in Dean’s pants? Wasn’t one of the djinni rules that you can’t wish to make someone fall in love? Maybe Cas had wished to become a Prince. And Benny had helped him. And Benny was here. He’s slinked back into his lamp, which Abaddon’s tucked back into her cloak, but he’s here. Dean had long given up hope for ever seeing Benny again and now… Now…

And then there’s Abaddon. She’s walking into the palace like she owns the place. Naomi steps out from a hallway, immediately going to Abaddon and ducking her head respectfully. Hadn’t Sam gotten rid of Naomi? Judging by the look on Sam’s face, though, he seems just as confused.

“Lock them up,” Abaddon’s saying, “but keep them out in the throne room. I want them on display.”

Naomi nods, and a couple other guards appear out of nowhere, marching to either side of both brothers and taking a hold of their arms. Dean doesn’t fight it. Not with Abaddon and her freaky witch magic or whatever right there, watching the two of them being dragged to the throne room with a small, satisfied smirk.

As soon as Abaddon’s out of sight, however, Dean feels the strange tingling in his spine disappear, and he twitches his fingers experimentally. He smiles as he watches his fingers curl and, without a second thought, stamps down on top of the foot of the guard on his right. The guard howls, letting go of Dean’s arm, and Dean uses the opportunity to swing a fist at the other guard’s face. Once he’s free he moves to help Sam, but his little brother seems to have things handled, and the guards are starting to recover.

Well, and there’s Naomi.

Naomi had been leading the way into the throne room and is now stalking back to them looking murderous. Dean glances at the other guards before gritting his teeth and barrelling towards her. Naomi sidesteps him at the very last minute and brings both of her fists high above her head before slamming them down on Dean’s back as he hurtles by. Dean hits the floor with a cry. He can hear Sam tussling with the other guards and can’t decide if it sounds like Sam or the guards are winning.

Slowly, vision swimming, Dean rolls over to his back with a grunt, trying to catch his breath. Naomi’s face appears right above him, scowling like he’s a particularly nasty spider. The last thing he sees is the bottom of her shoe.

Dean’s pretty sure he’s never been quite as miserable ever in his life. He woke up chained a few feet away from the throne on one side, head and back throbbing, and there’s no sign of Naomi.

Sam’s only fifty feet away, but Abaddon’s put up some sort of magic invisible barrier or something. They can see each other perfectly fine, but they can’t hear each other. They’re both chained to the same wall, on either side of the throne. Abaddon really wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted them on display.

Sam’s freaking out, Dean can tell, but after a couple hours there, none other than Benny floats into the room. Dean makes a point of ignoring the djinni, so Benny goes over to Sam and talks with him a little.

It’s not that Dean doesn’t want to talk to Benny. He does. He’s heard the djinni speak a total of five words in the past twenty years. That wound, that loss had healed long ago, but now that Benny’s back it’s been torn wide open, festering angrily. Dean wants to know what the hell happened to his friend, and what the hell happened with Castiel--or Cas, whatever. But he’s afraid that if he starts talking to Benny, he’ll just make it worse.

The sun sets and rises again, and Dean doesn’t sleep a wink. Benny and Sam stop talking at some point, and Benny wanders over to the opposite wall to… Dean doesn’t know. Keep an eye on them? He stubbornly refuses to think about it. Dean’s pretty sure Sam doesn’t fall asleep either, though it looks like he’s close at one point. Either way, Sam looks just about as bad as Dean feels when sunlight starts peaking through the throne room’s windows again.

Dean’s about to give in to the temptation in djinni-form and talk to the bastard when a small figure with red hair hurries into the room. Charlie’s glancing behind her as she rushes over to Dean, a tray of food--it looks like it’s mainly bread--in her hands.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean hisses as she gets closer. Charlie glares at him.

“Where else would I be? Abaddon has her goons crawling over the entire city, there’s not exactly a way to escape.”

“So lie low, you dumbass.”

“And let the two of you handle things by yourself?” Charlie says, handing him a slice of bread. “Fat chance. Sorry about the bread, it’s all I could snatch without anyone noticing.”

Dean’s already halfway through the slice before she finishes speaking. He shakes his head, trying to swallow quickly so he can respond. Apparently he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Charlie raises an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t make yourself sick.” She glances around the throne room. “How’re you two holding up?”

“As good as we can,” Dean says around the food in his mouth. Charlie’s mouth twists.

“I guess that’s all we can hope for. I heard there’s a djinni…” She’s looking around again, and Dean suddenly stops eating, swallowing painfully. He’s lost his appetite.

“Yeah, um,” he says, putting the rest of the bread down. “You remember Benny?”

Charlie looks back at him. “The old family djinni who disappeared two decades ago? Vaguely. Why?”

Dean chews at the inside of his cheek for a moment, glancing back at where Benny’s hiding in the shadows. “It’s him.”

Charlie whirls around. “No fucking way.”

Benny’s caught on that they’re looking at him because he’s stepping closer, slowly, unsurely.

“Allah, I remember that beard. And those eyes. Piercing, aren’t they?” Charlie whispers in something that sounds like awe. Dean blinks at her before growling to himself.

“Anyway. What’s going on out there? What’s Abaddon doing?”

Charlie stares at Benny for a few seconds longer before dragging her attention back to Dean. “Establishing her rule, mainly. I heard she’s got guards at every entrance to the city.”

“Keeping people in or out?” Dean asks. Charlie shrugs.

“Maybe both. Dean, where did she get all this… magic or whatever it is?”

Dean finds himself picking at the rest of his bread. “Good fucking question.”

Charlie’s quiet for a moment longer before setting a couple slices of bread on the floor next to him within easy reaching distance. “I’m gonna give some of this to Sam, okay? Just… hold on there. We’ll figure this out.”

Dean smiles at her, grinding his teeth slightly. “Yeah. Sure.”

Charlie gives him one last look before scurrying over to Sam. Dean picks at his bread a little longer until he can’t stand the feeling of Benny’s eyes fixed on the top of his head. He looks up and meets Benny’s gaze with the deadliest glare he can muster. Benny drops his gaze immediately and slips back into the shadows.

“Gentlemen!”

Dean jumps at the greeting, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam and Charlie jump, a little delayed when they see who’s entered. Charlie falls into her subservient servant stance and takes a few quick steps backwards, away from Sam as Abaddon, followed by Naomi and a handful of other guards, marches into the throne room. Abaddon looks like the cat who got the cream, and somehow she seems to be carrying herself with even more pose and confidence than ever before. She gives a small wave of her hand, and Dean tenses, readying himself for whatever’s about to happen, but nothing does.

“How are we doing this morning? I see you’ve been fed: good, good.”

Dean looks in Sam’s direction and realizes what the hand gesture must’ve been about. Sam’s frowning at Abaddon, but it’s not in the same way he was frowning at Dean earlier when they were trying to talk. She’s brought down the sound barrier.

Abaddon turns her attention directly at Dean and smiles. It’s unnervingly normal, actually. No sign of evil or wickedness in her expression whatsoever.

“Now, Dean. I have a proposition for you.”

“Whatever it is, you can shove it up your ass,” Dean replies automatically. Distantly, he sees Sam wince. Abaddon’s lips thin and, there, that’s more of the Abaddon they know and love.

“Yes, impress us, won’t you?” she says. “Impress us with your stubborn refusal to accept reality and, instead, make trivial threats and jokes. If you do that then maybe you can forget that your life is on the line. Your people’s lives are on the line. Your brother’s life is on the line.”

Dean snaps his mouth shut and bites his tongue. Abaddon knows them. She’s been a part of their lives longer than their own mother. She knows the weak spots to poke at. Abaddon looks satisfied with the response and clasps her hands together.

“Now. My proposition. I would like you to marry me.”

“What?” Sam practically yelps. Charlie’s looking up now, and even Benny looks surprised. Dean stares at Abaddon, heart hammering inside his chest.

“Why would I do that?” he says as calmly as he can manage. Abaddon’s lips curl, but Dean can’t really call it a smile anymore.

“Because if you don’t you will have no power whatsoever.”

“And I will if I marry you?” Dean asks incredulously.

“Perhaps,” Abaddon says. “Either way, your chances of having some measure of control will increase exponentially if you take your place as Sultan by my side.”

“Bullshit.”

Abaddon’s eyes flash with anger and irritation but only just for a moment. The corners of her mouth twitch upwards again.

“In that case, I have an extra incentive.”

Dean stays quiet and stands slowly, waiting as Abaddon turns to nod at the guards behind her. Two of them peel off and exit the room, as Abaddon returns her gaze to Dean. Dean holds it, trying not to imagine worse and worse scenarios for what she considers an incentive.

The guards return after just a moment, pulling a tall blonde woman in with them. Dean frowns at her, confused. He has no idea who this woman is at all, though she looks a little more smartly dressed than, say, Charlie. He starts raking his mind for some sort of recognition.

“If you do not agree to marry me, bodies will start to drop,” Abaddon is saying, but Dean is only half paying attention. The woman looks frightened but like she’s trying not to be. She’s holding her own ground, a sharp set to her jaw, but her eyes are darting around the room frantically.

“Starting with your suitor here.”

Dean blinks and frowns at Abaddon just as Sam suddenly jumps to his feet, tugging on his chains with a frantic bellow.

“ _No_!”

Dean stares at Sam for a brief moment before turning back to the woman. Castiel had said that Sam and his latest suitor seemed to have hit it off pretty well….

Abaddon is also frowning in Sam’s direction. Sam seems to be fighting between embarrassment and defiance as he returns her gaze. She continues frowning at him for a few more moments before humming and turning back to Dean.

“The threat stands, Prince Dean.” She looks over her shoulder to smile at the woman. Dean’s starting to really wish he knew her name.

“You know who she reminds me of?” Abaddon says casually, and something about the look in her eyes has the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck standing on end. Abaddon smiles.

“Your mother.”

There’s a moment where Dean’s thoughts stutter to a halt. That doesn’t make sense. Abaddon didn’t show up at the palace until after Mom had died. How would she know…?

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks, hating how hoarse his voice sounds. Abaddon’s smile grows.

“Your father always believed your mother was murdered, didn’t he?”

Dean feels sick.

And Abaddon had helped Dad to stop obsessing over it. Made him believe it was an accident. It was the one good thing Abaddon had done, the brothers had always thought. Pulled Dad out of that headspace and back to his duties as Sultan.

“You weren’t at the palace yet,” Dean argues weakly. “You didn’t come to Agrabah until a few weeks later…”

“My kind has ways of getting around things like that that could stand in a human’s way.”

There’s a sharp movement in the shadows, and Dean follows it to see Benny staring at Abaddon, eyes wide and mouth open. Dean looks back at Abaddon’s smirk, trying not to panic. What is she saying? She’s not human? Is she djinni? Or something else entirely?

“Well. I’ll let you mull over these things for now,” Abaddon says amiably. “But I ask you to consider my offer, Dean. It will make things a lot easier for everyone involved.”

She turns and steps lightly out the throne room, her posse of guards dragging the blonde woman close behind.

Cas has officially lost track of time. And he’s worried he’s about lose a toe or a finger or two. Gabe’s fighting to stay awake, and Cas keeps poking at him to try and help the effort, but he’s starting to feel it too. The cold is just so cold and harsh and terrible, and it would feel so good to just… sleep….

In a sudden burst of motion, Cas stands up and grabs Gabe. The monkey gives a feeble little squawk of protest but nothing else, and it only further motivates Cas to move. He walks carefully out of the tower, stumbling a little as his legs try to wake up. They need to move. They need to walk. They need to get out of here because Cas would rather die trying to get home than just sit here and accept it. He stomps through the awful white stuff, determined to pick a direction and just go.

But then he notices something moving, something partially stuck under the tower.

Cas stares at the movement for a few seconds, confused, before he recognizes the black and silver threading.

“Carpet!” he cries, running over. Gabe looks up at the sudden noise, blinking owlishly. It takes him a moment longer, but he soon jumps off to help Cas, digging at the wretched white stuff to free the Impala. There’s a creak and a groan, and Cas looks up to see the tower inching forward.

Well, shit.

Cas snatches Gabe back up and runs. But the hill they’re on ends with a cliff, he can’t outrun the tower. Cas glances back and notices a window in the tower, and if he aims just right…. Cas stops and crouches, hands over his head. The groaning and the rumbling gets closer and closer, and then, just for a moment, the air around them changes. Cas looks up after a few breathless seconds to see the tower tumbling down the cliff. Gabe’s claws are digging into Cas’s scalp.

The Impala, on the other hand, looks ecstatic. She flies over from where she’d been stuck and scoops them up, zooming toward the horizon. It’s time get back home.

Abaddon, Naomi, and the suitor--Jess, Charlie tells him as she hurries back out--are gone for only a few hours before Benny approaches Dean. Dean doesn’t notice at first. He’s too wrapped up in his head. Abaddon killed his mother. Abaddon killed his _mother_. Abaddon _killed_ his mother.

“Dean.”

The name is said quietly, cautiously, enough that Dean doesn’t even hear it for a moment. Slowly, he looks up to see the djinni standing two feet away from him, mouth twisted in sorrow beneath his beard. Dean glares at him.

“What?” he seethes, and Benny blinks.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“For which part?” Dean asks viciously. One corner of Benny’s mouth twitches upward slightly.

“Chronologically or alphabetically?”

Dean stares at him for a moment. Benny’s trying to lighten the mood, and Dean doesn’t know if he wants to take the bait.

“Chronologically,” he says through gritted teeth. Benny’s hopeful expression drops, and he rubs at his jaw.

“Ah. Maybe I should explain first?”

Dean bites back some retort about excuses and nods curtly. However angry he is, all he really wants is an explanation. He feels like he’s suddenly been made aware of something happening behind a curtain sitting in the corner of his life. A full blown play with plots and subplots and supporting characters and mind blowing effects. And Benny seems to be in the middle of all of it.

Benny nods to himself and sits down in front of Dean, rubbing at his jaw again. Dean distantly remembers that habit of the djinni’s. He’d even do it in his kid form that he used all the time back then. It always broke the illusion of someone their own age for a moment until Benny would throw up his bright smile again, and everything would be back to normal.

“I left,” Benny starts slowly, looking more at the floor than at Dean. “I left because I knew Abaddon was coming.”

“So you left to save your own ass?” Dean says. Benny looks up in surprise.

“No! No, that’s not… Years before you were even born, Dean, I knew about Abaddon. I didn’t know her name yet, but I knew she… well, she was looking for a djinni. But we like to keep ourselves secret for the most part so she was having a hard time. But I… being servant to the royal family of Agrabah for generations on end gives you a certain profile no matter what you do. And someone like Abaddon can’t…”

“You mean someone like Abaddon as in not human?” Dean asks. Benny nods.

“I’m sort of surprised she told you that much, actually.”

“So I assume if she’s been looking for a djinni that means she’s not djinni either,” Dean says. “What is she?”

“Demon.”

Dean stares at Benny dumbly. “What?”

“Which is exactly why I couldn’t let her find me,” Benny says with a nod. “Which obviously didn’t work as well as I hoped, but I had to do something.”

Grudgingly, Dean has to admit it makes sense. He’s never met a demon before--it’s rare enough that he knows a djinni--but they’re out there. Scary, sneaky, and sinister. And it’s a damn good reason for leaving. Weirdly enough, it doesn’t make him any more nervous about the situation--Abaddon’s always made him uneasy. But that’s only half the problem.

“So what about Cas?”

Benny sighs. He looks tired, Dean realizes belatedly. Bone tired.

“He found me and, I’m sure you guessed, the Impala.”

“Why’d she leave?” Dean asks quickly. That’s another thing that he hasn’t been able to make sense of, but Benny shrugs.

“I’m not sure, exactly. She’s intuitive, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if she picked up on the rumors of a demon on their way and decided she’d feel safer wherever I was hiding.”

That hurts a little, if Dean’s being honest. He would’ve done everything he possibly could to keep the Impala safe if he’d needed to, even when he was nine. But he’s just a prince. Benny’s a djinni.

“Cas found both of us, and after both he and Gabe rubbed the lamp, I didn’t have any choice but to follow them,” Benny continues. “I didn’t know how long I’d been hiding, and I couldn’t be sure that Abaddon was still a threat. I didn’t say anything to Cas because I didn’t want to paint him into a corner or anything like that. And after he mentioned your name, I couldn’t….” Benny smiles wearily. “I wanted to see you and your brother again.”

“What did he wish for?” Dean asks, ignoring the lump in his throat.

“He only used two of his wishes before Abaddon found the lamp,” Benny says. “He asked for me to make him into a Prince first. He fell in love with you as soon as you met, and he knew that the only way he could meet you again would be if he pretended to be someone rich and important.”

“So you helped him lie to me,” Dean says flatly. He kept hoping he was wrong about that. But, no. Two of the people he loved most (or thought he loved?) came up with this elaborate plot to lie to him, and for what?

“He wanted to tell you the truth,” Benny says quickly. “I think at first he was just scared that you’d see him as less than human if you knew the truth, but after your father’s funeral, he meant to tell you the truth. That was the night that he spent in your chambers, though, so I’m sure there were… distractions.”

Son of a bitch. Dean closes his eyes and rubs at them to hide the look of guilt he’s sure is written all over his face. So it’s his fault Cas didn’t tell him. He’d even told Cas he didn’t want to hear anything unless he was accepting the Vizier job. And then he’d pushed and pushed, and now that he’s looking back at it Cas was obviously thinking about something else. Distracted. But Dean had been so wrapped up in his own head, in his grief, that he hadn’t stopped to consider anything was wrong. That anything could be wrong.

“And his second wish?” he asks through his fingers.

“That you wouldn’t fall in love with any of your suitors.”

Dean blinks up at Benny. “So he wormed his way around the not making people fall in love rule, huh?”

Benny smiles, but it’s weak. “He didn’t ask for you to fall in love with him, Dean. He just asked that you wouldn’t fall in love with anyone else.”

“So my options were fall in love with him or never fall in love?” Dean asks, and dammit, he’s getting angry again. “That’s just awesome, Benny.”

But now Benny’s glaring at him. “Are you trying to tell me you weren’t already in love, Dean Winchester? Because you sure coulda fooled me.”

Dean stays quiet, a pit growing in his stomach. He doesn’t really know the answer to that question, and he’s not sure if he wants to. Sam had joked, sure, but that was different, and Dean had been high on adrenaline and excitement then.

Dean’s thoughts are interrupted by a loud, familiar squawk, and he looks up to see Crowley swoop into the room and head directly for Sam. He perches on the arm of the throne, and Dean watches as Sam sits up, confused.

“You want something?” he asks, and Crowley’s head cocks slightly to one side.

“A cracker?” the parrot says, but there’s something different about his voice. Benny’s getting to his feet slowly, eyes fixed on Crowley.

“Shit,” he hisses, and he’s backing away from Dean, back to where he’d been hiding in the shadows.

Sam looks just as confused as Dean feels. “The hell?”

“Actually, I’d rather make you suffer, you useless child,” Crowley says, and before either brother can react, the bird dives for Sam talons-first. Sam throws his arms up just in time to prevent Crowley’s talons from clawing him in the face. Dean sees red well up on Sam’s arm and jumps to his feet. He hurries toward them to help, but he’s yanked to a stop by the chains he’d completely forgotten about. Crowley’s flying upwards again, beady eyes fixed on Sam, and then he’s diving again.

“Leave him alone!” Dean barks, straining against the chains. Crowley seems to pause, considering Dean’s demand.

“Hm,” he says, and the tone of sarcasm is almost painful. “I don’t think I will.”

And he’s hurtling towards Sam again.

“Dammit,” Dean growls, yanking at his chains. “I swear to Allah--”

“Ah-ah-ah.”

Dean whirls around to see Abaddon sauntering back into the throne room. Behind her, Naomi enters and takes her post at the door. Abaddon smiles venomously at Dean.

“Now, my prince. Have you considered my proposal?” she asks, approaching him. Dean glances over his shoulder to see Crowley’s hasn’t halted his attack on Sam. Damn bird. And to think Dean had teased Sam about his hatred for the parrot for years.

“Just think of all we could do,” Abaddon’s still saying. “We could make a lovely couple, you know. The children would be gorgeous.”

Dean snarls at her, but she just keeps smiling, confident, still approaching like a tiger stalking it’s prey.

“What do you say, my dear? Why, with you as my--”

“Never,” Dean hisses. He spits in her face, and Abaddon’s smile drops, eyes flashing dangerously as she wipes the spit off with her hand.

“No. Of course not.”

She turns to walk away, and Dean relaxes ever so slightly. But with a flurry of motion, inhumanly fast, she whips back and backhands him across the face. Dean falls to the floor with a thud, blinking wildly. By the time he can see straight again Abaddon’s standing above him, looking taller than normal and angry as a swarm of bees. Vaguely, Dean wonders why he thought it’d be a good idea to piss off a demon.

“Djinni!” she barks, and Dean sees Benny stand at attention behind her. “I have my second wish. I wish for Dean Winchester to fall madly in love with me.”

“No!” Sam cries. Dean feels a hard lump form in his throat before his brain catches up. Benny can’t do that, it’s one of the rules. Dean glances over to Sam, who’s batting at Crowley distractedly, and watches as he seems to remember the rules as well. He’s looking between Dean, Benny, and Abaddon, waiting to see what happens.

Benny, meanwhile, looks a bit awkward.

“Uh, Master. There are a few rules--”

“Don’t talk back to me!” Abaddon snaps. “You will do what I order you to do, slave!”

Something drops through the window behind Benny, and Dean frowns at it. The dark hair, the lithe figure… accompanied by a magic carpet and a small monkey. Castiel. Dean’s heart leaps with hope without his permission, and he bites the inside of his cheek. Cas hits the floor quietly and meets Dean’s gaze with a finger to his lips. Dean can only stare, unsure whether he’s angry or relieved to see the thief.

But Benny’s looking like he’s about to argue with Abaddon again, and Crowley’s still attacking Sam, and Abaddon looks ready to slaughter everyone in the room, Naomi included, and Dean acts fast.

“Abaddon,” he calls, pushing himself back up to his feet. Abaddon looks back at Dean with irritation, but Dean doesn’t pause. It’s been awhile since he’s done this, sure, but he used to be a pro at seducing women before Dad decided it was time for him to get married. He’s got this.

“I never realized how incredibly… beautiful you are.”

That’s not exactly true, in all reality. Dean noticed how gorgeous Abaddon was right off the bat, but the edge of something sinister had prevented any further thoughts on that subject.

Abaddon’s lips curl into a smile, and Dean notices Benny looks stunned behind her. But Cas, Gabe, and the carpet are all moving in separate directions, and neither Crowley, Naomi, nor Abaddon have noticed, and that’s what matters.

“That’s better,” Abaddon murmurs. “Now. Go on.”

“You’re tall,” Dean says, pulling together all his acting skills. “And well dressed. Confident. I like that in a woman.”

Benny’s noticed Cas, and it looks like they’re having a passionate, whispered conversation.

“Your eyes are so… mysterious. Like a storm out at sea.”

If they get through this Sam’s going to laugh his head off at Dean later. But it’s working; Cas is getting closer, the Impala’s just behind Naomi, and Gabe is already working on Sam’s shackles.

“And your hair. It’s so vibrant,” Dean goes on. “I’ve never seen such beautiful, thick, vibrant hair--”

“Aba--!” Naomi’s noticed, and Dean acts fast. Grabbing Abaddon by the head, he pulls her close and smashes his face against hers. There’s a moment, just a brief one, where nothing happens, and it feels like Dean’s heart is pounding loud enough the whole throne room can hear.

And then Abaddon’s kissing him back, hand going to the back of his head to pull him in closer. She kisses like a madman, deep, sensual, and with too much teeth. Dean pushes down the bile in the back of his throat and forces himself to return the fervor.

There’s a clatter, and Abaddon pushes him off, turning towards the sound. Dean wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand as he stumbles backwards.

“You!!” she bellows. Cas freezes and starts to scramble back to cover.

“How many times do I have to kill you, boy?!”

Cas is thrown to the closest wall, hitting it with a thud, but Sam’s suddenly rushing past Dean to tackle Abaddon. Abaddon sees him coming and lashes an arm out. There’s a loud crack, and Dean’s staring at a Sam he hasn’t seen in over twenty years.

The two-year-old loses his balance and falls to his ass. Sam blinks around for a moment before shoving his thumb in his mouth.

“Where’s the lamp?” Cas yells at Dean. He’s back to his feet by now, grabbing a small golden table to swing at Abaddon as she turns Gabe to a wind-up toy. Dean looks around frantically and sees the lamp--Benny’s lamp--sitting innocently on the floor between himself and Abaddon. Dean sprints for it.

Dean’s fingers just wrap around the handle of the lamp when his vision suddenly full of black feathers.

“Son of a bitch!”

Dean drops the lamp, trying to bat the damn parrot away, but Crowley’s persistent. His claws scratch at Dean’s arms and face, but after a few attempts, Dean manages to hit the bird square in the chest hard enough that he flies backwards, hitting the floor hard. Dean immediately grabs for the lamp again--but it’s gone. He turns back around to look for it and feels his heart jump to his throat. Naomi has Cas, blade to his neck, waiting for Abaddon’s signal.

“Cas!” Dean yells, running for him, and runs smack into a wall of glass. Dean scrambles backwards fast, head spinning. He’s positive that wasn’t there two seconds ago. He follows the distortion in the light made by the glass, trying to find a way around, making a complete three-sixty before realizing he’s completely surrounded. Something light hits the top of his head and trickles down the back of his neck, and Dean jumps backward, out of the way. Goosebumps run up his spine as he looks up to see a small stream of sand pouring down from the top half of the hourglass.

An hourglass. Abaddon trapped him in a giant hourglass.

Meanwhile Abaddon is stalking closer to Cas, sneering.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” she says. “Why you? Why were you the only one--the diamond in the rough, as it said--who could enter the Cave of Wonders? What’s so special about a street rat?”

She pauses, as if waiting for Cas to answer. Dean notices a pile of black and silver thread on the floor and feels despair well up inside of him. The Impala. Cas is alone. The only ally he has available to him is Benny, and Abaddon is Benny’s master right now. Speaking of, where did that fucking lamp end up? Dean looks around quickly to find Benny quietly scooping the lamp off the floor and hiding it in a corner. At least there’s that.

“Well?” Abaddon pushes. Cas blinks at her.

“I-I-... I don’t know. I didn’t even know that… that I was the only one who could enter. You forgot to mention that part.” He struggles a little, but Naomi holds the blade closer. Abaddon turns to where Benny’s been standing, a helpless spectator to the whole thing.

“Djinni? Care to explain?”

Benny sighs with his entire body and takes a step closer. “You have to understand, Cas. Abaddon is more than what she seems.”

The sand is up to Dean’s knees already. He tries to stay on top of it, but it’s too loose. It’s warm and coarse, and Dean really doesn’t want it in his lungs.

Abaddon’s laugh is low. “Ah, yes. We must explain, mustn’t we?” She looks directly at Cas, smile crooked. “You see. I’m a demon.”

Cas stares at Abaddon in confusion, and then her eyes flash--actually flash this time--so even the whites of her eyes turn black. Cas reflexively tries to take a step backward, but Naomi presses her blade against his throat hard enough he can feel blood trickle down to his clavicle.

“Years ago, when you were just a kid,” Benny says, “I knew a demon was coming. I’d heard whisperings of a demon who wanted to get her hands on a djinni, and I could feel her getting close. She knew where I was because of my centuries of service to the royal family, and I knew that if she actually found me….”

Benny was the royal family’s djinni. Cas almost wishes he were more surprised. But that still doesn’t explain why Cas is apparently special. And, meanwhile, Dean’s up to his shoulders in sand.

“I still had to make sure someone could find me someday,” Benny continues. “Most of my existence I’ve served the Winchesters, and I knew I could trust them. But I knew it couldn’t be a Winchester who could find me. Abaddon already knew they were my masters. So it had to be someone the Winchesters would trust above anyone else.”

“I barely knew them--” Cas protests, but Benny shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. Time--past, present, future--is irrelevant.”

Dean’s wide-eyed, but he doesn’t stare for too long, struggling to keep his head above the sand of the hourglass. Cas watches, heart thudding painfully, as Dean slowly disappears.

Abaddon’s scoffing. “Touching. Truly. You may kill him, Naomi.”

Cas moves before he even knows what, exactly, he’s doing. He jabs his elbow as hard as possible into Naomi’s ribs, and she gasps, blade slipping from her fingers, stumbling backwards. He throws his head back, hitting her face with a loud crack, and Naomi crumbles. Cas picks the blade up and rushes for the hourglass. He’s just about to break the glass when some invisible force grabs him and yanks him back, sword flying out of his grasp.

“I don’t think you fully appreciate who you are trying to defeat!” Abaddon bellows. “It has taken me nearly a century to prepare for this moment! Decades of searching! You are no match!”

Cas scrambles back up from where he’d fallen, groping blindly for the sword. Abaddon appears inches in front of him and wraps a hand around his throat. Cas claws at her fingers wildly, feet lifting off the floor.

“There’s a certain power that djinn possess that demons do not,” she hisses. “I aim to have that power for myself. And no _defect_ , no… How was it Naomi put it? Crack in your chassis, I believe. No _street rat_ is going to take that from me.”

Cas gasps around the chokehold, vision greying around the edges. He kicks at her with all the force he can muster, foot connecting with her pelvis. She drops him with a yell, and Cas scrambles backwards.

“Is that what you’re planning on using your final wish for?” he asks hoarsely through hacking coughs. Abaddon looks back up at him, eyes flashing black again.

“Yes.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Cas says. Out of the corner of his eye Cas can see Benny shoot him a shocked look.

“What are you doing?” he whispers harshly. Cas ignores him.

Abaddon looks contemplative. “True. With both my power both as a demon and a djinni, I could eliminate you and your petty friends with the mere blink of an eye.”

“Cas…” Benny tries again. Cas continues to ignore him. Abaddon smirks and draws herself up to her full height.

“Djinni. I make my third wish. Listen carefully. I wish to be an all powerful djinni--”

“Benny, _now_!” Cas bellows. Benny is only put off-guard for a moment before snapping his fingers. Abaddon’s eyes fly wide.

“No!” she screeches. “I was not finished! _No_!!”

But it’s already too late. Wind picks up in the area directly around Abaddon, fast enough to pick her up off the floor. She continues to scream protests as the cuffs appear on her wrists and a lamp, a deep maroon, forms in midair. A spot of black flies past, trying to get out of the way, but Abaddon manages to snatch the parrot, dragging him with her as she’s sucked into the lamp.

A few feet away, the two-year-old Sam, eyes still wide and thumb still in his mouth, turns back into full-grown Sam with a small pop. Sam jerks his thumb out of his mouth and stares at it in disgust.

“You’re crazy, you know that, right?” Benny says. But Cas doesn’t answer. Instead, he scrambles back to his feet, snatching up the blade on his way, and breaks the glass of the hourglass. The sand spills out in a cascade, and there--there’s Dean, sprawled out in the middle of the sand, eyes shut, face pale. Cas hurries to him, Sam right behind him.

“He’s not breathing,” Sam says quickly. “Cas, do you have any wishes left?”

Cas’s insides have gone cold--colder even than that frozen wasteland Abaddon had sent him to. He can hear a couple more pops of things returning to their original states--there’s chattering from Gabe behind him.

“Cas?” Sam pushes desperately. Cas looks over to where Benny’s approached, looking somber.

“I’ve got one wish left, but--”

“Then wish to bring him back!” Sam cries. He looks to Benny. “He’s not dead yet, is he? You can still save him?”

“I can,” Benny says quietly with a nod. Cas chews on the inside of his mouth.

“Sam, I can’t. I promised Benny I’d use that wish to free him.”

Sam looks at Cas hopelessly. “But…”

“Cas,” Benny says gently. “It’s okay. This is more important.”

Cas grits his teeth. “I promised.”

Benny tries to smile, but it’s not that convincing. “If you don’t do this, I’ll never forgive you.” He nods at Dean. “But you need to hurry. Before it’s too late.”

Cas struggles for a brief moment longer before closing his eyes in defeat. “Benny. I wish for you to save Dean.”

Suddenly Dean can breathe.

His eyes fly open, and air rushing into his lungs in one long shuddering gasp. It’s unfamiliar and uncomfortable, and there’s a brief moment where he panics, rolling over and hacking loudly. Slowly, he becomes aware of his surroundings and manages to breathe normally. After only a few excruciating moments, Dean rolls back over and stares around. Cas and Sam are both kneeling on either side of him, looking relieved.

“What happened?” he asks as the Impala glides up to them, perfectly whole again. Sam grins.

“Your boyfriend’s awesome, that’s what happened.”

Dean blinks at Sam for a moment before looking to Cas. But there’s a stranger behind Cas, walking closer, looking quite pleased as he inspects his hands.

“Who’s the short dude?” Dean asks, and Cas turns to see what Dean’s talking about. Cas huffs a short, quiet laugh.

“That’s my brother. Gabe.”

Dean pushes himself up to a sitting position. “I thought Gabe was a monkey.”

The stranger--Gabe, apparently--scowls good-naturedly at Dean. “Touched cursed treasure a couple years ago. Abaddon’s cursed treasure, actually, which is why I couldn’t wish myself back until now,” he explains mostly to Cas. Cas frowns at him.

“Did you know it was Abaddon’s when you tried to steal it?” he asks, a certain edge to his voice. Gabe shrugs.

“Maybe.”

Cas shakes his head with a look of long-suffering, but Gabe knocks his shoulder gently.

“Hey,” he says with a smile. Cas smiles back.

“Hey.”

Dean stares. “Right. Okay. What about Abaddon? Where did she…?”

Cas picks up a maroon lamp from the floor and presents it to Dean. “She’s gone.”

Dean reaches out for the lamp but thinks better of it.

“Allow me,” Benny says, walking up to them. He takes the lamp from Cas’s hand and smiles tightly. “A few thousand years in the Cave of Wonders ought to chill her out.” He heads for the door, the Impala following with excitement, and Dean turns his attention back to Cas. He has this look on his face that Dean can’t figure out. They just won, didn’t they?

“Why do you look so bummed?” he asks. Cas blinks at him in confusion, but Sam answers.

“He used his last wish to save you.”

Dean frowns. “Uh. Okay. Well, if that was gonna bum you out--”

Cas huffs, lips twitching into a smile. “That’s not--” He stops and sighs. “I had promised Benny I’d use that wish to free him.”

It takes Dean a moment to process it.

“You can do that?”

Cas shrugs. “Apparently.”

Before Benny had even left, Dean would spent countless hours racking his mind for something important enough, something special enough, to use his final wish on. He’d make lists and scribble things out irritably, he’d stare into the fountain in the courtyard as if the answer was lying at the bottom, he’d even ask his mom’s advice, or his dad’s, or even Sammy’s. After a couple years, when Benny’d been long gone and Dean had given up hope, Dean had stopped trying. He’d never been able to think of anything that would work, and it hadn’t looked like he would ever get the chance to use the wish anyway.

But now...

Dean smiles at Cas and pushes himself up to his feet. He takes Cas’s hand and pulls him up as well before knocking at his shoulder gently.

“Chin up, dude. I got an idea.”

Keeping Cas’s hand in his own, Dean hurries to follow where Benny’s disappeared through the doors. He can hear the shuffle of Sam and Gabe (which, okay, that’s weird, it’ll take Dean a while to wrap his head around that) rushing after them, and Benny’s standing out in the morning sunlight, looking up into the sky.

“Hey, Benny.”

Benny starts slightly and turns, grinning at the group of people coming to join him.

“How’re we all doing? Better?”

“You still owe me a wish, don’t you?” Dean says, ignoring Benny’s question. Benny blinks at him for a moment before breaking out into a familiar smile that makes Dean’s chest ache.

“Have you finally decided what it’s gonna be?”

“Cas told me what he was gonna do for you,” Dean starts, and the smile on Benny’s face drops.

“Dean, no,” he says quickly, taking a step forward. “You’ve been saving that for something special--”

Dean stops him with a hand on his chest. “This is something special, dumbass.”

Benny looks frustrated. “Dean--”

“Benny,” Dean interrupts before the djinni can argue any further. “You’re free.”

Benny looks like he’s about to continue protesting, but something stops him. He raises his hands, shock written all over his face, the cuffs on his wrists vibrating wildly. The vibrating gets worse and worse until finally--they snap off and clatter to the floor. Benny continues to stare at his wrists, a smile beginning to slowly grow on his lips.

Dean’s heart is in his throat, and he tries to swallow around it without much success. Because he knows what this means. He knows what’s about to happen. And, Allah in heaven, he doesn’t want to do this again. Squashing down the embarrassment, Dean takes a quick step forward to kiss Benny on the cheek.

“You’ll come back, right?” he asks quietly.

Benny looks back up at him sharply, and Dean meets those familiar blue eyes with a wavering smile.

_“Will you come back?”_

_“As soon as I can, I promise I will come back. You still have one more wish, remember?”_

_“Yeah, okay, but if I didn’t, would you come back?”_

_“Of course.”_

Benny nods. “Of course I will.” He blinks out of the strange spell and grins wryly at Cas.

“That’s how I knew, by the way.”

Cas smiles back. “Yeah, I’d figured that.”

Dean frowns between them. “Knew what? What’re you talking about?”

Benny chuckles and shakes his head. “Don’t you worry about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> A coda is yet to come with some Dean/Cas/Benny porn...


End file.
